


Monster and the man

by cookie_book_took



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Blowjobs, Brocks a good guy, Bucky works at peggys carehome, Character Death, Dark Steve Rogers, Drugged Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Steve Rogers, M/M, Manipulative Steve, Messed up happy ending, Panic Attacks, Possessive Steve Rogers, Psychopath Steve, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Smut, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve is Captain America, Steve's an emotional yoyo, Steves is not good, but is obsessed with Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 88,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookie_book_took/pseuds/cookie_book_took
Summary: Steve finds something he wants and he's going to get it. It doesn't matter that the man of his desires has a boyfriend, doesn't matter than he doesn't feel the same, doesn't matter that they've barely shared a conversation.Bucky Barnes is his, his mind, his body and eventually his heart will all belong to Steve....or : Bucky just wants to go about his comfortable life but Psychopath Steve had over ideas. His body and mind are turned upside down by Steve, but he won't let him have his heart so easily.alternatively: MONSTER AND THE MAN: A SUMMARYBucky's internal monologue: Dis bitch. ... .Steve's internal monologue: MY BITCH <3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Монстр и человек](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15191573) by [Ortalle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ortalle/pseuds/Ortalle), [tae_judas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tae_judas/pseuds/tae_judas)



> This is currently not written, the plots in my crazy head but if anyone likes it I'll write some more and we can fall into darkness together.
> 
> Read the tags and don't hate me for them.
> 
> Steve is dark and a bit emotionally wrecked, his morals go out the window when he wants Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve is a psychopath that can love.  
> What he does is obviously wrong on every level but he doesn't see it that way.  
> He loves Bucky and will do anything to make Bucky feel the same.
> 
> Please read the tags!
> 
> The whole plot of this fic is in my head and depending on whether people like it i'll write it :)
> 
> Warning for this chapter in particular.  
> Chapter notes at the end if unsure.

“Never guess who I saw today…”

Bucky rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, making his way round him and collapsing heavily on the couch.  
“Who?” he breathed, not caring overly for the answer, he had just finished a twelve hour shift and wasn’t in the mood for guessing games.

“Tony Stark.”

Bucky nodded his head extra slowly, getting his point across that seeing Tony Stark wasn’t a big deal, the guy practically flew over the city everyday, more people had seen him than not.

“Well sooorrrrieee, seeing that Captain America every day has gone to your head.”  
Brock dropped down on the couch, knee knocking into Bucky. His shoulders drooped dejected at Bucky’s lack of enthusiasm. Bucky slid his hand round his neck and squeezed.

“‘M sorry Brock, was a long day...and I don’t see Steve every day, he visits Peggy twice a week.”

“Get you, calling him Steve, don’t ya get any ideas and I’m still waiting on that autograph.” Brock grumbled, knee knocking into Bucky's again.

“I’m at work, can’t really stop and ask him.”

The pouting continued until Brock pushed his bottom lip out in an expression of pathetic goofiness.  
“Fine, I’ll ask next time he’s in.”

Brock looked positively giddy at that, ducking in and laying a kiss to Bucky's cheek.  
“Another for my collection.”  
His most prized possession was his notepad of signatures, he even kept it under his pillow at night. Bucky didn’t know the exact number of celebrity pen marks in it, but he was sure Brock had done some of them himself.

“Love ya.” Brock sung and Bucky repeated it back with a heavy heart not letting himself dwell on it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bucky loved his job, there were bad bits to it, stripping down a soiled bed wasn’t exactly a highlight, neither was the dark days when a resident passed away, but the rest of the time Bucky loved his work. Each resident had a colourful life and couldn’t wait to show it to him, to paint pictures in his mind. They’d show him photographs, there daughters and sons, grandchildren were particularly proudly displayed to him. The residents were polite, greeting him with happy smiles and grateful good mornings. Brock always mumbled that he didn’t know how Bucky could do a job like that, a building with a shadow of death. Bucky saw the opposite, the place was full of life, it lived on even when people passed because he carried a piece of them, a piece of their story and history.

 

Peggy was one of Bucky’s favorites, always smiling and telling him what a beautiful day it was to be alive. She often forgot the conversations they’d had, but Bucky was calm about it, understanding and soothing her through the confusion. 

 

Steve started visiting a few months after he’d come out of the ice. He found it difficult at first, having to start again each time they spoke, Bucky often found him gnawing his knuckles in the corridor afterwards, tears shimmering in his eyes, an understanding smile or a squeeze to his shoulder usually pulled him from sinking to far.

 

The last visit Steve had found particularly difficult, Peggy repeatedly asked for her husband, said husband had passed away a few years prior, and when Steve tried to tell her that she got hysterical, pushing him away and screaming she didn’t want him.  
Bucky had taken over from the tear stricken Steve, talking Peggy down and making her calm again, then suddenly it clicked and she knew who Steve was, knew Bucky as well.

Steve had left soon afterwards but only as far as the corridor.

Bucky approached cautiously, it didn’t seem wise startling an avenger. The blonde hair on his head stuck out in tufts from frustrated grabs, the position of two clumps made him look like he had devil horns.

Moving in his line of sight Steve glanced up, blinking back the moisture in his glistening eyes.  
“’m okay.” He mumbled.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, she-she tells me stuff about you sometimes...stuff in the war.”

Steve sniffled, straightening his back to the wall behind, “Yeah, like what?”

Bucky leaned on the wall next to him, “like solo rescue operations, diving on a grenade, outsmarting everyone in training with a flag pole…”

Bucky watched as Steve's smile grew, till he knocked his head back and breathed a chuckle.  
“Doesn’t seem that long ago....when I’ve tried talking to her about the war, anything from back then, she's blank, like there’s no recollection whatsoever.”

Bucky nodded along in understanding, “memories a funny thing...comes in pieces, it’s there just muddled and blocked.”

“When I found out she was alive...I-I was happy I wasn’t alone.”

“You're not, you’ve got the avengers now, still got Pegs, and her memories she gave to me, so a little piece of ya I got safe.”  
After the words had left his mouth Bucky worried they sounded odd, especially when Steve began staring at him unblinking.  
“What I mean is...you got people out there that care bout ya, love ya.”

Steve’s eyebrow rose and Bucky wondered whether throwing himself out the window was a good idea.  
“You love me?”

Full on flushing, Bucky scratched his head, giggling in a higher tone than he would’ve liked. “No erm, I didn’t mean me, trying to make you feel better but instead I’ve made myself look like an idiot…”

“You’ve done both…”

Bucky was saved from further humiliation when his pager buzzed, he was needed on the floor below to insert a cannula. He scrunched his nose at the request, it was another hated aspect of the job, trying not to tear skin that had the strength of wet tissue paper.

“I’ve got to go.” He said, pushing off from the wall.  
He felt Steve's eyes on him the whole of the time, not just the cheeks on his face were blushing from the attention he was receiving.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

He hadn’t spoken to Steve since, they shared smiles in the corridors, long lingering looks sometimes, but speech was zero, all until the moment Bucky stood in front of him with a pad of paper and a pen.  
“Erm...my boyfriend's a big fan…”

Steve took the outstretched pen, “Your boyfriend or…’your boyfriend’.”  
The second was accompanied by some rabbit ears, mocking fingers.

“No, really my boyfriend.”

The playful look on Steve's face dropped and he scribbled harshly on the pad of paper pushing it back into Bucky's chest.  
“Maybe he could get some balls and ask for it himself.”

Bucky was taken aback, ice was radiating from Steve and his jaw had set like stone.  
“Ermm, yeah-he knows you come here...been wanting me to get it for ages-”

“How long have you and him been together?”

Widening his eyes Bucky hummed at himself. “A few years.”

Steve scrunched his lips together before mouthing the words back.  
“Where d’ya meet?”

Bucky always kept that day a secret, it had ended with Brock saving him, but the beginning and middle were things he didn’t like to recall.  
“Met at a lake.”  
It wasn’t a lie, they had met at a lake, Bucky just made it sound more romantic than it was, the lake had been a terrifying accident and Brock had been his hero.

“Love at first sight?”  
No, it hadn’t been, he was too focussed on trying to breathe again, getting his body to reawaken from death.  
“Errr, dunno if I believe in all that.” Bucky said lightly, trying to divert the tense interrogation.

“I believe in it.” Steve said suddenly, “but it brings its own problems, what if the other person doesn’t feel it, what if they do but they push it away.”

This was far too much of a deep conversation to be having during a twelve hour shift.  
“I guess you see how it goes, see if things develop…”

Steve released a bark of laugh, “what if you’ve already waited far too long...what if you don’t have the time to wait and see.”

Bucky didn’t have a clue what Steve wanted him to say, and his shrug of shoulders was met by a puff of air.

“See that’s the difference between me and your boyfriend, I don’t have the time to tiptoe around, I’ve got the balls to go out and make something happen, not wait for it to fall into my lap.”

Steve turned abruptly, marching his way down the corridor and pushing the doors open with more force than necessary.

“What the fuck.” Bucky said to himself, lifting the pad of his chest and seeing what Steve had scribbled.  
‘Ask yourself.’

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

He didn’t give Brock the autograph, deciding he’d rip out one of Steve’s visitation signatures and give him that instead. Brock stuck out his fat bottom lip when Bucky told him he still hadn’t got it.  
“He’s like the nicest avenger…”

Bucky shook his head in amusement, “you haven’t met them, how would you know what they’re like.”

Brock prodded his fingers into Bucky's side, making him thrash, “alright Mr Clever, I don’t know ‘im personally, but he seems nice on TV.”

Apart from when you ask him for an autograph Bucky thought bitterly.

Brock yawned, staggering up from the couch he held out his hand, “bed babe.”

Bucky took the hand following upstairs and going through the motions, as soon as they sunk into the mattress Brock was asleep snoring loudly in Bucky's direction. 

“Fucksake.” He murmured, turning on his side and shoving a pillow over his head.  
He tried his best not to think of Steve and his rage fuelled eyes, or the integration of questions. It was Bucky's fault for asking, Steve was visiting Peggy, not making a guest appearance, it was inappropriate to ask for a signature. He was going to avoid him for the foreseeable future, that was the best thing to do.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Avoiding Steve was impossible when he waited outside the care-home after Bucky's shift. He averted his gaze, making his way to his car as quick as possible, hoping Steve hadn’t noticed.  
His car spluttered, wheezing pitifully and then it went dead.

“Fucking kidding me!”  
He banged the steering wheel, he was exhausted and didn’t have time for this shit, a knock on his window had him straightening up.

“You okay?”  
The man he had been doing his best to avoid was the other side of the glass, concerned eyes watching him.

“Stupid thing won’t start.”  
Steve opened the driver's door and Bucky climbed out, gripping onto his hair and cursing.

“What’s the problem?”

“Batteries dead….you got any jump leads?”  
Steve shook his head and Bucky twirled and kicked the wheel of the car, he didn’t wanna deal with it, he wanted to go home, eat rubbish food and pass out on the couch.

“Tell ya what, get in mine and we’ll go buy some leads.”

Bucky nodded, at least that was a plan, he’d been contemplating finding a spare bed in the home.

“Thank you.” He said shyly to Steve.  
A hand settled on his shoulder with a squeeze, “no problem.”

The car was an old beetle, paint flaking and rust on the handles. Steve noticed his surprise.  
“I like it,” he said, “inconspicuous….”

That was one way of describing it Bucky thought, a better term was ancient.  
The car grumbled into life and Steve pulled away from the care home. It felt constricting with Steve next to him, his bulky presence. Heat was radiating from him and an odd smile twinged his lips.

“I’m sorry I got snappy with you-

Bucky waved his hand in the space between them, “no I shouldn’t of asked...your Steve when you come here, not Captain America...it was outta order of me.”

Steve looked at him longer than it was necessary before nodding.  
“Tough shift?” Steve asked after an extended pause.

Bucky rolled his shoulders, “yeah, real long, glad it’s Friday...”

Steve smiled, flicking his head to the backseat, “you strike me as a whiskey man…”

Bucky followed his gaze, spotting the bottle of amber on the seat.  
“How’ d’ya guess?”

Steve shrugged, bobbing his chin for Bucky to get the bottle.  
“Thor got me it...human alcohol doesn’t work on me, so asked me to try it.”

Bucky unscrewed the lid, giving it a tentative sniff, it didn’t smell any different to normal drink.  
“Try it if you want.”

Bucky glared at it, wondering if his liver could handle alcohol from Thor’s home planet.  
“Sure it won’t kill me?”

Steve shook his head with a small laugh, “won’t kill ya, got a feeling it will make you feel real good.”

There was definitely an oddness to Steve's grin but Bucky pushed it away, it had been a long week, the car situation had stressed him further, he was allowed to indulge. Nothing bad was going to happen with Captain America by his side...he tipped it back, matching Steve's lingering smile.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

He woke up slowly, fuzzy head clearing. The air smelled fresh, pine like. The material at his back was soft and warm. He battled his weighted lids, opening them to a room. He blinked several times with no recollection. He startled up, wrists snagging and not letting him off the bed. He was on a bed in a room he didn’t recognise. Cuffs held him to the frame, and when he looked down, he shifted uncomfortable at the sight of his body, all clothes had been removed, leaving him naked and tied down to the bed.

“Hello?” He called tentatively, not sure if he wanted a response.

The room was warm, a lingering smell of wood smoke wafted under the door and the one window he could see had branches scratching against it. He was somewhere isolated, had been stripped and cuffed, he racked his brains trying to remember the events leading up to this moment.

“Oh, you're awake….”  
Steve walked in grinning, glass of water in his hands. Bucky tried to cover his dignity by hitching his leg over his other, his wrists were secured but his ankles weren’t.

“What the fuck!” He hissed.

Steve chuckled lightly at Bucky's attempt at concealing himself, “there’s no need, I’ve seen you when I got you undressed.”

“Steve, let me go...this isn’t funny.”

He nodded along to Bucky's words, “I know it’s not, here have some water…”  
He didn’t want any water, he wanted to get out of there, wanted to know what was going on. Steve seemed to read the confusion on his face.  
“Drink some water and we’ll talk.”

Bucky weighed it up, deciding he was already at Steve’s mercy it was best not to make him angry. He leaned up best he could and Steve cupped the back of his neck, helping him to drink the contents…  
“Is this about before...when I asked for the autograph, look ‘I’m sorry okay-

“It’s not about the autograph.” Steve said slowly, perching on the edge of the bed and watching intently.

Bucky clinked his chains, trying to stay calm as possible, “then what?”

“Just wait.” Steve said with an unnerving smile.

His heart was thundering, it felt like it was beating out of his chest, pushing against his ribs, it didn’t feel like fear though, he had no idea what it was, but it was consuming making his body hum. The water his mind supplied, foggily making his head turn towards the empty glass next to the bed.

“What have you given me?”

Steve followed Bucky's gaze, grinning proudly, “my own invention...it's amazing the stuff Thor brings back.”

“Wha?” Bucky tried, head feeling dizzier.

“Just relax, let it do its thing.”

He didn’t know how to relax when his heart was beating like it was, when his skin pinched tight in tingles, he shivered, head dropping down on the pillow below.

“Do you think I’m hot?” Steve asked.

Bucky wanted to answer no, he thought Steve was an utter nut job but his brain struggled and a yes wheezed out, as soon as he’d said it a shot of something good flooded his mind.  
Fingertips were tiptoeing his skin, leaving behind stepping stones of tingles, his breath hitched at the sensation of Steve's wandering hands.

“That feel good?”

He wanted to scream no, get offa me but instead he breathed another yes, eyes rolling when another burst of intense fuzziness stole his mind.

There was a mouth on his skin, pressing firm kisses, each one buzzed, making him gasp and shift. It shouldn’t of felt good but when that same mouth sucked right over his nipple he groaned, body trembling at the feeling.

“You like that huh?”

He didn’t even try to fight the voice in his head, he agreed immediately and shivered at the rush.

A tongue was sloshing lines enthusiastically over his skin, his neck and he moaned heartily, unable to help it, his skin felt like it was on fire and it was only soothed by the caresses.  
When the lips and tongue got to his face he turned away, not letting them connect with his mouth.

A rumbling growl came from above him, “you want me to kiss your lips?”  
There wasn’t a muddled up war in his head, the answer was no and when he said that his head pulsed in pleasure.

The voice above growled, not happy by the answer. “Fine.” he bit out.

Teeth nipped back down his body, igniting tingles and chills. Warm hands pulled his legs apart and hot breath breezed his aching cock.

“You like me touching your body?”

Another warm flood spread when he agreed, yes his body was responding to the touches, couldn’t get enough of them.  
His legs were pushed so the knees bent, feet flat on the mattress, he was lifted slight, the hot puffs of air were no longer brushing his cock but lower, right over his hole.

“So pretty,” the voice cooed, “do you like it when he kisses here…”

Bucky’s muddled brain struggled at the question, he didn’t know the ‘he’ the voice was referring to, couldn’t even remember his own name in that moment.

“He doesn't.” he breathed, and was immediately rewarded by the detached feeling in his head, his subconscious seemed to know who the ‘he’ was.

A nail scratched his opening and his whole body trembled, vibrated desperately.  
“His loss....So sensitive,” the voice said, and another scoring mark followed making Bucky's bite back a groan.  
“Does it feel good?”

His yes was accompanied by a rush in his head and a throb in his hole, he cried out, unable to help it. The tongue that had teased his body pressed forward, flicking gently. His whole body shuddered and the moans and groans streamed from his lips with no filter, no control.

He was lapped at, broad strokes, angled strokes, all till he was a bumbling mess of need. He was begging, sobbing and thrashing for release. The tongue disappeared and a firm pressure took over, curling inside. A finger was corkscrewing, inside his body, in and out. His sobs got louder, whinier, till they didn’t feel like his anymore.

“Please, please, please.” he repeated like a mantra to the god that had taken over his body and mind.  
The probing finger was joined by the tongue, licking around the rim greedily, a tightness gripped around his cock, slowly moving. He could feel how slick he was, how much pre-come had been pouring out of him. All the movements were torturously slow, driving him insane with pleasure and need. He was beyond begging, had floated high on endorphins and was unable to move, unable to respond, all he could do was lay with a slack mouth as his body got pushed to the edge. Each time he neared, the movements stopped, waiting till he’d gained some stamina back, then they started again.  
His body dripped with sweat, each drop that fell and made a trail down his skin to the bed ignited with sensitivity. 

 

The finger popped out, the tongue stopped its lapping but the other hand remained stroking.

“You wanna come?” The voice panted huskily.

The desperate yes that gurgled through his throat created an intense rush of pleasure, he was floating high, so high blackness pulsed in his vision, every sensitive tingle of skin pinpointed to his cock and he gasped at the force of his orgasm, he was vaguely aware of the splattering on his skin, the happy grumbles of the man doing this to him, the rush of pleasure was so intense it stopped his heartbeat, the muscle squeezing extra hard the beat after to compensate.

“Did you like that?”

He breathed a yes and his cock trickled more come onto his chest.

“Best you’ve had?”  
His answer earned him another warm dunk into tingles and a happy laugh from the man.

“Does he ever make you feel that good?”

Again his mind struggled with the concept of ‘him’ but his subconscious seemed to know.  
“No he doesn’t.” He managed to say, still heaving.

He looked down at himself, eyes snapping to the man smiling by his cock, he shifted up, licking his tongue flat against Bucky’s body where the come had stuck. Bucky whimpered at the sight, the man was gorgeous, and lapping at his body like it was the tastiest thing he’d ever eaten. He was enjoying the licks, humming as he did so and mapping his hands over the rivets in Bucky’s muscles.

“You like watching me drink you up?”

Yes, yes, yes blared through his head and his cock made a feeble attempt at releasing more, more that was sucked from the source with a satisfied grumbled.

The bed shifted, and the man had moved closer, was lying on his side with his head propped on his hand. His brain didn’t offer him any clues, still too overwhelmed, all he knew was this man had made him feel like that, had given him the most euphoric feeling he’d ever experienced.

The blue eyes studied his intently, and fingertips began mapping his body again, stroking their way up his face, along his jaw and to his lips. The man leaned in, attempting to connect them but just-in-time Bucky turned away, denying the contact.  
When he glanced back the man looked amused, hand trailing down towards Bucky’s hips. He was hard again, and the man began the torturously slow strokes, never moving his eyes from Bucky's face. 

“Want another?” he teased.

Bucky moaned through a yes, eyes fluttering and refocusing on the unmoving ones. They were dark, pupil blown into an almost feral appearance. The lips of the man parted, sucking in the air Bucky was harshly panting out. 

“You love me stroking your cock?”

He groaned and sobbed through another wave of pleasure, the yes was yelled to the ceiling as he struggled to get his body under control.  
The man shifted up, blocking the ceiling with his head, keeping his unyielding eye contact.  
“This time I wanna see your face when you come.”

Bucky gulped out a yes, unsure why he bothered, it wasn’t a question. His legs were trembling, his needy hips lifted to increase the pace. The man chuckled, stilling his movements and relaxing his grip. Bucky’s whine was tragic, and he felt the heat of tears in his eyes.

“Please.” he begged to the black pits watching, the skin around them crinkled into a smile.

“Beautiful,” the man purred, “so beautiful.”

The speed increased, not stopping and pushing Bucky right over the edge with a howl, still coming the man whispered in his ear.

“You like that?”  
Another orgasm ripped through him when he replied, and he felt the lingering effects of it pulsing.

“Do I touch you better than ‘him’?”

He choked out a yes in reply, and something painful tugged in his chest. His burning eyes began leaking streams, and the man ducked in to kiss them away. The black pupils had reseeded, showing a halo of blue.

“Do you love him?”

His brain battled, between the truth and lie and he wheezed out a ‘no.’  
The pleasure he was rewarded conflicted with the ache in his chest. He’d just admitted something, something he didn’t even admit to himself. He didn’t love the ‘him’.

“Good, that’s good.” the voice breathed out in relief.  
Bucky didn’t share that feeling, a prickle of self-disgust was expanding. The man continued to wipe away his escaping tears.  
“It’s okay…”

Bucky shook his head, squeaking out a no, the assaulting pleasure made him grit his teeth, “make it stop, I don’t wanna feel good anymore.”

The man shushed him, ran his fingers through his hair and made his scalp tingle.  
“I wanna have you,” the man said, “let me have you…”

His mind was at war, not knowing what answer to give, he didn’t know...his lips opened but nothing came out, the man watched attentively, frowning at Bucky's lack of response. The question had been too broad, his aching brain couldn’t understand the context.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”  
His erect cock pulsed and the word yes had flown through his lips before he could think on it. The smile that expanded on the man's face was blinding, he chuckled, rolling fully on top.

The kissing, nipping, sloshing tongue all started up again and the hesitation and despair of a few minutes ago dissolved into sounds of pleasure. Groans of intense stimulation.  
When a thick pressure pushed inside, Bucky’s eyes rolled back, his breath stuttered, he felt full, felt the rub against something electric, igniting sparks inside his body.

“So greedy, your body swallowed me all up.” the voice breathed.

Bucky nodded frantically, wailing at the thrusts igniting his insides.

“You love my thick cock?”  
Another yes and he was losing his mind, fading into pleasure.

“You love me fucking you?”  
He was beyond words, but when he nodded another shot flared in his skull. 

He was chanting please again, hoarse and desperate but the man responded, snapping his hips fast. He dived down to kiss him and Bucky moved just in time. The man growled, teeth sinking into Bucky's ear before pulled back and tentatively licking his tongue over the nip mark.

“You want me to come in you?”  
Yes, the answer was an earth shattering yes, but he only managed a gasp, coming with the final rush of pleasure, his head, his prostate, his cock all singing in unison.

There was a grunt from the man's lips, the slowing down of the pace and desperately drawn in breaths, but Bucky’s head was spinning, the world was fading into darkness and he happily sighed into it.

“You’re not his anymore, you’re mine...”  
The last thing he heard before he fell unconscious was his own voice, mumbling back a yes. Then his brain bubbled with bliss and sleep stole him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve drugs Bucky and has sex with him, this is the only time Steve resorts to drugs to seduce Bucky.
> 
> Yeaaaaaah.....
> 
> Don't bombard me with hate and if anyone wants me to continue this fic let me know :)  
> [tumblr](http://cookie-book-took.tumblr.com)


	2. part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two, Bucky's back from the cabin with a muddled mind and a needy body, all he needs to do is block out the memories, avoid the unhinged avenger and carry on as if nothings happened....how hard can it be....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote some more, tell me what ya think.  
> Thanks greatly for the kudos and comments :)  
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> There's definatly a fic idea with Bucky exclusively trapped at the cabin but I couldn't work it in this one, Steve works with the avengers and is away weeks at a time, Bucky would most likely die and Steve loves him far too much to let that happen.
> 
> If ya like it, I'll write another chapter wednesday, and so on like that, till i screw it up or ya get bored, hopefully neither of those will happen!

Bucky woke with dribble on his chin and pain in his shoulders. The surface in front of him was hard and cool and when he pulled back, he recognised the steering wheel of his car.

He blinked slowly, head lolling on his neck, a quick narrowed-eyed glare out the window showed his location, parked outside his house, in his car.

“the fuck?” He muttered with a pulsing head.

He slumped back in his seat, rubbing at his temple in confusion, a shift on the seat had a dull ache rocket at the base of his spine and the front of his pants rubbed against his cock like sandpaper... 

 

Steve, he remembered Steve kissing him, touching and fucking him. He bit down on his knuckles to stop his squeak of despair. He’d cheated on Brock, had let another man ring orgasm after orgasm out of his body.

Except he hadn’t let Steve, no, Steve had given him something, had tied him down and gave him no option of escape. He didn’t remember being placed in the car, or the drive back from the location, but he remembered Steve telling him to keep their little secret, no one would believe Captain America had spiked him, kidnapped him and taken advantage of Bucky's drugged state.

 

He thought about Steve's hands on him, his mouth, when his face was by his cock, when his tongue teased his hole. Just like that he was hard, his skin was buzzing with the need to be caressed again. The drugs must still of been affecting him…

He jumped a few inches off the seat at the loud thump to the window. Brock opened the door wide eyed and Bucky albeit fell out onto the pavement.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Whaaat?”

Brock pressed a thumb on Bucky’s cheek, pulling the skin down and staring into his eyes, whatever he saw he didn’t like.  
“Two days Bucky, Two days!”

Bucky’s brain warped, two days, he been away for two whole days, he drummed his fingertips on his forehead trying to clasp at the vague memories other than pleasure, Steve made him drink and eat, had gotten him off the bed for a piss or three only to tie him down to the frame again.  
He struggled to his feet, doing his best to not indicate his aching backside.

“Jesus, I thought you were past this Buck…”  
Bucky frowned, fixing Brock with an irritated glare, he couldn't understand what he talking about. Brock moved him aside, delving into the car and pulling out an empty bottle. 

“What the hell?”

The drink from Steve’s car, the whole bottle was drained.

“You drank all this? Did you learn nothing last time?”

Bucky went to catch Brock's arm, he wanted to ….apologies? he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do but seeing the hurt in Brock's eyes was too much, he attempted a wonky hug, only to pushed away by his tearful boyfriend.

“Get inside….go clean yourself up.”  
Brock faced away, pacing steps down the pavement while shaking his head.

Bucky went to follow before the memory of Steve's hands itched his skin, he couldn’t comfort his boyfriend when Steve was still all over him.

 

The shower rushed over his body, hot enough to turn his skin lobster pink, he wanted it raw and tender, he didn’t want to feel the after echo of Steve’s hands and mouth.

Wrapping himself in a towel he collapsed down on the couch, Brock was stood watching in the doorframe. 

“So why’d ya do it? Get smashed and drive off somewhere?”

Bucky scratched the back of his head, hoping the cogs of inspiration would begin to turn. He wondered whether Brock would believe him about Steve, or would he just think he’d had a hallucination after drinking so much.

“I was stressed...I had a drink.”

It was, after all the truth, he just wasn’t going to add what happened next, being strapped down and howling moans of pleasure as Steve strategically took him apart. He chocked a sob when he remembered what he’d said, what he admitted. He wasn’t in love with Brock-

“‘m sorry.” he gasped out, head falling into his hands, he crushed his skull between his paws repeating the words again, till Brock intervened pulling his hands apart.

He was hushed, Brock led him to the bedroom and curled up around him, still tense from anger but more worried after Bucky's mini break down.  
Bucky knew he didn’t deserve it, but he closed his eyes and let his body drift away.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

He promised not to touch a drop again, and he certainly wouldn’t be sharing any swigs of whiskey with Steve. Bucky changed his shifts to time’s he knew Steve wouldn’t be there, he wasn’t quitting his job, he wasn’t leaving his boyfriend. He was going to continue just how he was, putting a mental block on the memory’s. For a whole week at work he was jumpy as fuck, worried he’d wandering into Steve, or that he’d realise the shift change and rearrange his visiting hours to compensate. Steve didn’t, he visited his usual times, Bucky checked in the visitors book. 

Whatever happened that night was done, Steve had taken what he wanted and wasn’t pursuing him anymore. But Bucky didn't get why that was that a relief and disappointment at the same time, stupid libido was firing off at the memories craving more, it shouldn’t be, his body should’ve been repulsed by that mans touch, but it had been trained to respond, taught endless possibilities of pleasure, things Brock had never tried, things Bucky was unsure he'd like... 

Bucky tried to calm his rampant horniness with Brock, but all that did was add to his guilt, Brock tried to get him off, growing more dishearted by Buckys lack of orgasm, in the end he relied on his bank of memorys with Steve to get off to Brocks hand. Brock had smiled like a cat-that got the cream, quickly ducking in to lay sweet kisses to his cheek, internally Bucky's stomach rolled, he could only find release when thinking of Steve.

Was that Steve’s plan, to get Bucky to seek him out? If it was he could sod off, Bucky wasn’t going to be controlled that easily, even if his messed up body wanted it.

 

Some avengers emergency had broken out and the news reported they had left New York to deal with it. He was safe to go about his job without searching out Steve in advance. A whole week they had been gone, and the weight of knowing Steve wasn’t going to spring out on him had him relaxing and functioning normally again.

Peggy watched the news report eagerly, the twenty-four-hour channel blared continuous updates of the issues the other side of the world.  
“I hope he’s okay.” She said towards Bucky.

There was Steve on screen, standing with authority, blue eyes blazing and chest puffed out. Every bit the selfless hero, sorting some more shit out with his team at his heels.

Bucky had bristled, Peggy’s eyes were on him and he was quick to relax back down, he released a sigh and settled on the chair beside her. Peggy adored the man on screen, and her worry was hard for Bucky to watch, regardless of what he thought about the American hero.

“He’ll be okay, he’s captain America.”

She hummed along, fixing her downcast eyes on Bucky's hand on the bed.  
“I do worry about him...when I’m gone, he’ll be all alone.”

“He’s not, he has a team and friends-

Peggy chuckled sadly, “yes, yes, but he never got the chance to settle down, fall in love.”

Bucky squeezed her hand lightly, Peggy looked up at him with guilt crumpling her features.  
“He wanted that with me once.”

Smiling sadly, Bucky bobbed his head, “yeah he did.”

“‘n I was lucky...I got to have that with someone else...when I gave up hope. I found someone else and I was happy, he was always in my thoughts. And now, at the end, I want to know he’s going to be alright, he’s going to experience love and happiness.”

“I’m sure he will.” Bucky said, giving her frail fingers one final squeeze and standing. “I’ll be back after lunch.”  
She nodded gratefully, increasing the volume on the TV and fixing her attention to it, Bucky doubted she’d eat anything when her focus was so devoted on making sure Steve was safe.

“James,” she called, just as he was about to pass through the door, “that goes for you too...”

Bucky frowned, “what does?”

Her smile was small and sad, “don’t stay with someone because you think you should.”

His mouth flapped open, he’d mentioned Brock, never negatively, but it was the first time she had recalled him, hinted she knew something.

“I’m-I'm with Brock.” He stuttered.

“I know you are dear...don’t settle for him when you want someone else. When there’s a better match.”

Bucky felt the exact moment his gut twisted, when a pinch in his abdomen had him crunching over slightly.  
“’xcuse me?”

Peggy’s face went blank and her eyes snapped back towards the television.  
Had Steve told her something? Were they conspiring against him? Was the stupid drug still affecting him two weeks on? Bucky gripped his head at the furious ache.

“Are you alright James?” She asked with the same expression she stared at the TV with.

“Yeah-yeah, fine, ‘m fine...”

Outside the door Bucky breathed deep, head tilting up the ceiling, “shit.” he muttered, hands coming up to rub harshly at his hair. A war waged inside his mind, Steve the man versus Steve the monster. The stories Peggy had told him, the saviour devoted to protecting America, the humble guy all contrasting with the man that night. The one that had taken him against his will, given him some substance that made his brain muddled and skin buzz. 

The orgasms were intense, Steve had been so thorough in stimulating his body, and just thinking about it made his skin flush and his cock tingle with the faint echo’s of pleasure.

“Fuck!” he growled, pushing off from the wall, he had to stop thinking about it, if he wasn't currently at work he would've punched himself in the cock, his stupid body was his and shouldn't be under phantom Steve's control. He would have to re-condition it himself. Steve was evil, had taken advantage, had got him to say shit things about Brock, it was all that stupid drug, that’s why his body responded, was still responding.

 

The avengers successfully wrapped up their issues abroad and were flying back triumphant, Peggy had watched in confusion, asking Bucky why this channel was on, she didn’t pick it, didn’t know the blonde man on screen with the sincere smile.  
He handed her the remote and she flicked continuously, jumping from one programme to the next.

“Where is it?” she asked, voice breaking with sadness.

Bucky stood, making his way towards the TV and the machine beneath, he pushed the disc in, waiting for it to load. ‘It’s a wonderful life’ began flicking, black and white images rolled on the screen.

Peggy immediately relaxed back into bed, coaxing Bucky towards her, “such a good boy,” she said, grabbing his cheeks and squeezing.  
Peggy had told him it was the first movie her husband had took her to, and for that it held a special place in her heart. She settled down into her bed as both sadness and fond remembrance battled in her features.

He left Peggy to her movie, doing his rounds before his watch beeped and he was released from work. He was on his way out when he spotted the commotion in the lobby. One of the residents was behaving erratically, when Bucky noticed the knife his eyes went wide.  
Mr Tracker swished the weapon, terrifying the nurses and staff around him.  
Bucky pushed through the door, holding his palms up in a non threatening manner.

“Relax, need ta relax for me.”

He went still, confusion creased the skin on his face and he stared unblinking at the floor.  
Then the knife whipped up, digging into the flesh of his neck and attempting to split it.

Fear had Bucky darting forward, he didn’t want the man to harm himself, Bucky was on him trying to get his hands to release the blade, his strength was applied firmly and Mr Trackers arm weakened, Bucky didn’t see the spilled coffee on the floor being utterly focussed on Mr Tracker and the knife. He fell, bringing the man with him.

They tussled and in the tussle the blade pressed against Bucky's neck.  
His eyes wobbled in their socket when he felt the nick so close to his pulsing jugular. The man noticed too and there was a moment where Bucky paused, stunned, believing the man on top of him would push the blade in, severing his artery, but instead he crumpled, his face scrunched up in terror and confusion, Bucky shushed him, sliding the knife across the floor and embracing the man in a hug.  
“It’s okay.” he muttered, to himself and the man in his arms.

 

With Mr Tracker safely in his room and the correct dosage Bucky left for home, hands trembling on the steering wheel and heart sprinting in its beats.  
If the knife had gone towards him with any more force, it would’ve sliced him, powerful spouts of blood would’ve leaked from his body and he would’ve bled out on the stone floor.

 

Back at his house he continued in a daze, numb to what was going on around him. Panic still raced, and it went unnoticed by Brock.  
He could’ve died, that would’ve been it. He thought about what Peggy said about love and happiness, everyone deserved it....but he didn’t feel it with Brock, he was safe, he cared gravely for him but it was never love, never exciting. He hoped with time, those feelings would come but they never did, Brock was intent on finding an apartment in the city together and making their relationship more official, all that did was made irritated bees buzz in his insides. He gave Brock a key to his house, was that not enough-

He growled at himself and his unfair thoughts, Brock saved him that night two years ago, he wouldn’t of even felt safety and contentment without Brock. He wouldn’t of straightened himself out and got the job he loved. He was just freaking out over the incident at the carehome, the second time he’d come close to death.

“Brock,” he croaked, “you awake?”

The other man grunted, turning on his side to face Bucky in the dark.

“Something happened today at work...I know it sounds stupid...but can we just-just cuddle for a bit?”

Brock was certainly not fond of cuddles, occasionally he lay a kiss to Bucky’s cheek but he didn’t snuggle or hold hands, and point blank wouldn’t show affection outside of Bucky’s house or his own apartment.  
The bed shifted and a spark of relief ignited in Bucky’s chest, all until the sounds began, nasally snoring right in his face. 

“Seriously!” Bucky hissed at the ceiling.

That certainly wasn’t going to lure him to sleep, he stumbled up on his feet, resting a hand to the bed for some balance. He was only wearing his shorts as he bounced along the corridor, slapping his hand over the switch on the landing. His mind was in chaos, the knife incident, his relationship with Brock, the lake, Steve. It was too messy, too cloudy, and he didn’t know how to make it all stop.

He trudged the stairs, plodding his way into the kitchen and finding a glass big enough to potentially drown in.... He froze at the shiver that rattled his spine, the tingling feeling of awareness. He placed the glass back in the cupboard, turning slowly towards the intruder in the room.

Steve was there, stalking towards him with intent, Bucky backed off, darting panicked looks towards the stairs.

“You can’t be here.” he breathed in a rush.

Steve wasn’t deterred, he continued his march till Bucky’s back was against the wall and he was standing a mere inch away. The room was dull, the faint glow from the landing light shone on Steve's face, illuminating his worried lines, his troubled eyes.

“What-what is it?”

A cautious hand reached up, cupping Bucky’s jaw and tilting it up and away. Bucky gulped when he realised what Steve had focused on, the scratch mark of the knife, the mark his boyfriend hadn’t even noticed. The pad of Steve’s thumb rubbed across the wound and Bucky swallowed.

“I-I’m fine, go...you need to go.” he tried.

Steve angled his face down again, so there eyes were level, the intense concern stole Bucky's breath, made him fumble for something to say, but Steve spoke first.

“The carehome said there was an incident with one of the staff.” he was minutely shaking his head, as if he wanted to deny what he’d been told, “said someone got hold of a knife and threatened to hurt a member of staff….were you afraid?”

Bucky swallowed loudly before nodding, as soon as he did his face was caught in both of Steve’s hands, thumbs stroked over his cheeks. He closed his eyes, enjoying the soothing motions, relishing in the warm puff of Steve’s breath tingling his lips. He moved his head just as Steve swooped in to join them, an unhappy rumble vibrated in his throat.

“Still no kiss?”

Bucky shook his head, shooting a look towards the stairs, “we can’t do this.”

Steve's hands dropped down, face moved nearer, his lips skimmed Bucky's skin, touch as light as a cloud as it travelled down his jaw to his neck. He hovered at the wound and Bucky’s breath hitched. He felt drunk on all the slight touches, on the almost kisses. Steve was holding his hips so gently, just resting his hands, letting the smallest amount of heat seep through.

“Can I kiss here?”

The vibrations of Steve’s voice tingled the cut on his throat and he tilted back, letting Steve latch onto it, caress it with cautious pressure and the roll of his tongue. Just like that the roar of thoughts in his head dispersed, leaving him free to sore.

Steve’s fingers pinched at the waistband of Bucky's shorts, releasing with a twinge of material.  
Bucky panted with his eyes shut, hands hanging at his side. He was consumed being so close to Steve, his body became a puppet with it’s stings drooping. 

Steve was mapping his neck, nipping and licking the flesh desperately. His shorts inched down, till his erection sprung free. A warm hand surrounded his stiffness, not moving just holding, but it was enough for Bucky to moan pitifully.  
The last string of his body was cut, and he was dropping towards the floor, Steve hooked him under the armpit, drawing him into his chest.

“So beautiful.” Steve whispered directly into his ear.

His body went pliant and Steve kneeled down taking Bucky with him, laying him out on the kitchen tiles, they were cool at his back and he shivered, did more when Steve began kissing his chest and using that masterful tongue to turn his nipples into pinpricks. Warm hands, the sharpness of nails, and the soft press of lips were making Bucky’s body sing, Steve was worshiping him, lavishing him with attention, attention he didn’t deserve.

“We have to stop.” he managed after a few attempts. Steve paused, attaching his dark eyes to Bucky’s. His pink tongue poked through his lips and wetted them, the visual made Bucky shudder out a groan.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Bucky whined, the answer ashamed him, he had a boyfriend, upstairs in bed, this was wrong, wanting it was wrong.

“It’s wrong.” he gasped.

“I’ll make you feel good, make you forget what happened today.”

He trailed open mouthed kisses down Bucky's skin, humming in contentment. Bucky’s skin buzzed at the contact, he was gasping and gulping for breath as if parched of it. 

“Shhh Buck, ‘m not gonna make you wait today.”

He hated that he was relieved, hated that he sighed happily at Steve's words.  
The warm mouth of Steve rogers swallowed him up, sucking steadily, a finger scratched along Buckys hole and he jerked upwards, impaling his cock in Steve’s mouth further. Each time the finger sunk in fully Steve eased off his cock simultaneously, and each time his cock sunk to the back of Steve’s throat the finger popped out the rim.

Bucky was biting his wrist to stop the moans being too audible, he panted against the flesh of his arm desperately, overwhelmed by sensation. He wanted to beg, sob out a please to Steve, but he wasn’t risking removing his gag, he was loud even with his arm shoved in his mouth. When Steve finally pushed him over the edge the arm dropped free, his head tilted back and the cry of euphoric ecstasy was thankfully silent.

Steve was climbing up, and Bucky opened his legs for Steve to angle into. His cock prodded the rim as his high depleted, then Steve was pushing inside of him at a blisteringly slow pace.  
The black pools were watching him again, reading the expressions of his face, drinking in the sight. 

His fizzling mind ground to a halt at the creak of a step, Bucky shifted up on his elbows, foggy head clearing at the sound of a yawn.  
“Bucky...you alright?” Brock mumbled from somewhere above.

“Stop it.” Bucky mouthed down, trying to get his brain in gear, it was literally impossible with Steve still moving inside him. He was pretty sure Steve was inwardly chuckling, not caring if they were found out.

Bucky shoved at Steve's chest but he grinned brighter, carrying on with his slow, steady thrusts.

“Hey, where are you?”

His head was disorientated, he watched Steve with a slack mouth, feeling the building tingles in his body as Steve continued to fuck him. Rolling his eyes, Steve took pity on him, slowing to a stop so his brain could process speech.

“‘m gettin- water, drink-

The last word came out breathless as Steve plunged back inside of him, he lowered back to the floor in a daze, nearing his second orgasm. He went to groan, unable to help it but a palm pressed down on his mouth muffling it. Steve pressed his lips together in a smug smile, stopping his movements again.

“Sure ya okay babe?”

His eyes were rolling, skin on fire and cock so desperate for release it flapped in-between his and Steve’s body, Steve removed his hand with a raised eyebrow and a smile that radiated gloating.

“Yeah-yeah...go back to bed... done soon-”

Again Steve dived in deep on the last word, pressing his hand to Bucky's mouth to conceal the cry of pleasure.

“Okay babe, don’t be long...”

Brock was hesitating, unsure whether to follow Bucky’s advice. Steve pushed in hard, hand over Bucky’s mouth again. He fucked him just out of sight of Brock and Bucky’s body was humming with the feeling. Guilt was there, and self-loathing, but Steve was forcing them away till all he could feel and sense was Steve and his skilful body. Steve looked positivity feral, jaw set and dark eyes unwavering in watching Bucky.

The stairs creaked, and the floorboards in the corridor whined and Bucky knew Brock had gone back to the bedroom.

Steve gripped Bucky’s neglected cock, moving in time with the thrusts, the flare of guilt faded under a wave of pleasure, he was coming again, Steve’s grunt indicated he was also coming, filling Bucky to the brim. Steve was kissing him, he didn’t return it, but didn’t turn his head or push him away either, he let Steve’s tongue swell inside and taste him. He was groaning, thrilled by the access to Bucky’s mouth, he rubbed his tongue against Bucky’s hot and wet, still rocking into Bucky’s slippery body.

 

When the buzz faded Bucky choked on a sob, Steve lay propped up beside him, watching the self-loathing flooding him.  
He’d cheated on his boyfriend, his loyal boyfriend who was only upstairs. He slapped Steve’s drawing fingers away, no longer wishing to be his canvas.

“I hate you.” he wheezed towards Steve, but he hated himself more. There was no concoction of drink this time, he’d let Steve take over his body enjoyed the way his touches and attention robbed his consciousness, delving him into a sea of pleasure.

“Dump him.” Steve said firmly.

Bucky shook his head, tears welling and escaping, “No…”

“He’ll get hurt if you don’t…”

Was it a threat of violence or was Steve just stating the obvious, when Brock found out what Bucky had done it would break his heart.

“Fuck.” Bucky gasped, wiping furiously at his face, “get out, get out now!” 

Steve stood slowly, tucking himself back into his jeans before bobbing his head.  
“I’ll see you soon.”

“Stay away from me Steve.”

He stilled, turning around menacingly slow, “no...I’ve found something I want and I’ll make it mine.” and with that he left, leaving the door to swing on its hinges.

Bucky cried into his knees on the kitchen floor until he finally got his brain together and climbed into the shower still sobbing, scrubbing the scent of Steve off his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah....hope you guys liked it and don't hate Steve and Bucky too much.


	3. part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he has to do is get through a funeral, avoid Steve and get home, how hard can it be? Very hard for Bucky Barnes apparently....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are painfully my own.  
> Looove your kudo's and comments, many thanks, make's me very happy! <3  
> Read the tags.  
> warning for character death.

Peggy died on a Tuesday morning, Bucky wasn’t on shift, but when he came in later that night he hovered by the vacant room. The bed had been stripped, every possession had gone leaving white walls and the unnatural glow of the ceiling light. The rooms were small, but seeing it empty, it looked as echoey and cold as an air hanger.

 

The last conversation they’d had was about Steve, about her concern for him once she’d gone.  
She had gripped on to Bucky's hand tightly, eyes watering when she told him Steve needed someone to understand him, his needs and desires.  
Bucky had detached her grip, reassuring her that Steve would indeed find someone and be okay.

“Loneliness...it makes you do rash things…”

It was the second time a churning in his stomach had started because of her words, the knowledge that perhaps Peggy knew more than she let on.  
“Has...has he told you something?”

She smiled sadly, taking up Bucky's hand although he was reluctant to let her, “he’s a good man…”

“I know.” Bucky breathed back, thinking she’d forgotten the tone of their conversation-

“But, he’s not as patient as he was....”

Bucky frowned, leaning in and connection his dazzling blue eyes to hers, “what do you mean?”

“He puts everyone else's wants and needs before himself, if only someone would do that for him…”

Mouth popping like a fish Bucky had no idea what to say, was she suggesting he should fall into Steve's trap, take one for the team of mankind.  
The moment broke with her blinking in quick succession, smiling at Bucky nervously, conversation wiped.

“Can-can I have some more water James?”

 

He flicked his head towards the jug on the table, trying to dull down his irritation, “got ya some there.”

She glared at it accusingly, “that’s been there all day…”

Instead of arguing he had only just put it there he nodded, not wanting to distress her, “can’t get anything past you can I Pegs.”

“Not many people can, dear.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Staring into space, Bucky only came back to the present at the smell of coffee assaulting his nose, Brock stood beside him, cup outstretched in his hand.  
“This one’s really effected you, huh?”

Bucky nodded, he was going to miss Peggy’s smiles, and her chuckle when he made her laugh, he’d seen her almost everyday for over a year and now she was gone, leaving him with confusion and unanswered questions.

“Look babe...I know you said you don’t wanna go to the funeral, but I think you should, you haven’t been yourself for a while...an-an I’m worried this is gunna push you over the edge if you don’t deal with it.”

“’m fine, Brock-

Brock shook his head adamantly, collapsing down on the couch and jogging burning coffee over Bucky’s hand, he didn’t even flinch, just stared at his scorched skin.

“You ain’t fine...you’ve been...distant...I mean- you use to pester me for sex..be real affectionate and stuff, but now..there’s nothing....”

Bucky sighed, staring down at the pool of brown in the cup, “And you think my lack of affection is because of what?”

“Dunno...maybe-maybe, you’re stressed, over worked...I dunno, tell ya what lets book a holiday, will do us good to get away, somewhere hot, beach, the sea...what do ya say?”

Brock removed the coffee cup from Bucky’s grip, without that to focus on he had to look into his boyfriends big pleading eyes, he found himself nodding along to the idea and the smile Brock shot him was devastating. He attempted to return one but Brock could tell it was forced.

“Yeah need to work on that...” Brock pursed his lips together before springing forward with dancing hands, tickling Bucky’s skin till he thrashed half annoyed and half amused. In the end laughter won and Brock stopped.  
“There ya are, knew you were in there somewhere.”

This time Bucky’s fake smile was more convincing, Brock grinned back with creased eyes and kissed him on the cheek.  
“Love ya Buck...”

Bucky mentally blocked out the words when he repeated the statement back, he couldn’t hear the lie-

“But you’re going to that funeral...even if I gotta take the day off-

“No!” Bucky yelled, straightening up so fast he almost head butted Brocks chin.

“You need to go, closure an all that.”

Bucky scrambled for something to say before blurting out, “you hate this kinda thing...”

“I don’t think anyone likes ‘’em babe.” Brock said lightly, “an I’m shit at the whole condolences stuff, but If you need me I’ll be there for ya.”

Shit, Bucky felt like the worlds biggest fraud, undeserving of Brocks care. How had he screwed everything up so badly, how could he correct it, how could he get his stupid body to stop reacting to the ghost of Steve’s hands and mouth. It hurt his head to think about it, so he shut it out.

“I’ll go, I’ll be alright on my own.”

Another kiss to his cheek felt like a dagger, no matter how much he wiped at it, it continued to sting.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The funeral was held the following week, Bucky watched from afar as the avengers went into the church, Steve was there, head bowed as he paced outside. They hadn’t seen each other since the night in the kitchen, many times Bucky tried to trick himself into believing it was just a realistic dream, but his body knew, would react when his mind started to replay it.

This Steve was different, not the cocky controlling one, but a man that looked completely out of his depths. A tightness pulled in Bucky’s chest, a pluck on a sting of his heart. He didn’t like seeing Steve that lost, crushing sadness etching his features. Five men waited outside, one Bucky recognised was Tony Stark, he slapped his hand down on Steve's shoulder, speaking close to his face. Steve sagged further at the words just as the hearse arrived.

Bucky's feet began moving before his brain could catch up, the Steve of Peggy’s memories was breaking and he had to do something, this day was about Peggy, and Steve was important to her, her biggest worry when she could remember him.

“I’m doing this for you Peg’s.” Bucky muttered under his breath, hoping she’d appreciate it.

No one noticed his approach all watching the coffin. Steve stayed staring solemnly at the floor, neck bowing. Bucky reached a tentative hand, squeezing Steve’s shoulder like he had before when despair threatened to crush him in the corridor. Steve gasped, Bucky was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing, and he started to question what he was doing, whether trying to comfort Steve was the right thing to do.

Steve dragged his eyes off the floor, tracking Bucky’s body and getting to his eyes, Bucky felt another twinge in his chest at the watering blues, the trails tracking down his cheeks. It wasn’t the Steve of the cabin, or the one from the night in the kitchen, this Steve was devastated, weighted down by grief.

Bucky wanted to tell him it was alright, things would be okay, but he couldn’t promise that, he could only offer his feeble grip and hope it gave some strength to Steve.

The hopeless expression on Steve had Bucky tugging his shoulder, drawing him into his body in a firm hug, Steve relaxed into him, pushing his face in the join of Bucky’s neck and breathing deep.

“‘m sorry Steve.”

Steve’s only reply was to hug tighter, to take another deep breath and hold onto it. Bucky stroked his back, staring at the coffin over Steve's shoulder. She was right to worry for him, the giant he was hugging was trembling, great colossus of a man reverting to a child-like fear.

“I’m all on my own.” Steve whispered, not audible for anyone but Bucky.

“You're not Steve, I swear you're not.”

“I am.” he hushed with a hitch.

Bucky shook his head against Steve's, “No, you’ve got friends, the avengers are your family, the whole country is behind you, you have them, you have them all.”

“'nd you...”

Bucky had no idea what to say, his response was to grip his hand on the back of Steve's neck, fingertips brushing the edge of his blonde hair in an attempt at soothing.  
Steve shuffled, their embrace swayed, gripping each other and twisting almost like a slow dance.

“Steve...it’s time.” A quiet voice whispered.

Bucky released his grip, his hand twitched wanting to wipe Steve's tears away but he thought better of it, returning to the safe squeeze of shoulder. Eyes still fixed on Bucky's, Steve breathed, “it’s time,” nodding to himself and straightening up.

The man from the hearse sized them all up, pointing at Steve and Bucky, “you’re about the same height, you can lead from the front.”

Thinking better of protesting Bucky nodded, joining Steve as they led Peggy into the church, it was packed with adoring people, all touched by this amazing woman, sobbing in unity with their gazes directed at the floor. Once the coffin was placed down at the front, Steve was ushered away by a woman Bucky recognised, Peggy's niece Sharon.

Bucky moved to the back, watching proceedings from afar. The whole time he was drawn to Steve, he was standing straighter, no longer hunched in his grief. Seeing the coffin was always the hardest moment, when reality hit like a tonne of bricks, he hoped he had helped Steve overcome that distress, he owed it to Peggy to make sure he was okay, just that once.

 

Sharon spotted him as he was about to leave, she waved her hand to get his attention and he found his feet responding and marching over.

“James.”  
She embraced him, pulling him tight while Steve hovered at her side.

“I’m so sorry.” he said to her, then glanced at Steve to draw him into the sentiment. “She was an amazing woman...and I’m-I’m really gunna miss her.”

Sharon nodded along with fresh tears in her eyes, “she was fond of you,” a shy smile spread her lips, “once said you were the closest thing she had to a son.”

There had been a few hairy moments in the hospital where Peggy believed he was, all until he opened his mouth and she asked him to stop the ridiculous accent, realisation slammed into her and she apologized over and over as if she had greatly insulted him, he just found it funny.

Bucky’s jaw unhinged when he realised he’d spoken the memory aloud, Sharon was nodding again with an expression of amusement and despair, she was crying, but laughing too. The awkward should I hug her moment arrived, but it was clear she was leaning more towards Steve, using darting eye movements Bucky tried to communicate to Steve the appropriate response.

Eventually Steve reacted, not before rolling his eyes and mouthing a curse at the roof, Sharon fell willingly into Steve's arm, resting her chin on his shoulder. She clung to him and the longer it went on the more uncomfortable Bucky grew, he scratched the back of his head, fake marvelling at the stained glass windows.

Steve was watching Bucky unblinking over her shoulder, features all set into neutral, it was the eyes that made him shiver, a laser intensity that felt like it was melting his very bones.

“So erm, I’m gunna go…”

Steve went to say something but Sharon beat him to it, spinning around with puffed up cheeks, “you're not coming to the tower?”

“Nah, it’s okay I’ll-

“Peggy would’ve wanted you there.”

That was one sure way to stump him, he found himself nodding even though a mantra of no was on repeat in his head. The relief of the day being over dwindled, he couldn’t help feeling he was about to walk into the monsters territory, like a lamb to the slaughter, except everyone else would be there, nothing could happen with all of the avengers hovering close by.

 

Bucky had seen the tower, of course he had, it appeared like a giant exclamation mark demanding to be noticed, but to walk inside it with its glistening chandeliers and the mirror polished floor, it had his gut squelching. He got more uncomfortable when suited men held dishes of drinks, he declined, remembering his promise to Brock and found a secluded corner to stand and observe. Bucky the lamb was going to use its intelligence and hide from the wolf.

Bucky had texted Brock telling him he’d gone to Peggy's wake at the tower, he got no reply, each time he checked and he did a lot, there was nothing.

An hour he set as a target, that was a polite time to stay, Peggy would understand his presence wasn’t a good thing, he’d make it up to her and get some beautiful flowers, she loved blue geraniums, he’d even go the extra mile and pick the damn things.

 

Steve strolled in, scanning the area, luckily Bucky hid behind a pillar and he disappeared, an hour he spent sipping water and scoffing vol-auvent’s like a crazed hamster, with the time up he sighed, spying Sharon and getting ready to make his exit.

Then he saw who she was talking to, Brock stood, suited, bobbing his head along to whatever she was talking about.  
A long drawn out ‘shhhhitttt’ escaped Bucky’s lips and he made his way towards his boyfriend.

“Where you been hiding?” Brock asked, he leaned to give Bucky a kiss but then thought better of it and straightened up.

“Brock was saying you’ve been together almost two years.”

Bucky smiled politely, he knew what was coming next, the dreaded question.

“When you gunna get hitched?”  
There it was, the question that made Brock flush and him shift foot to foot.  
“We’re happy how we are.” Bucky said politely, trying to block out Brocks crushed expression, this was not the place for this repeated argument.

Sharon darted looks between them before smiling warmly, “you look like a lovely couple…”

Couple of what Bucky thought bitterly, grabbing a glass off one of the silver dishes, one look from Brock had him chasing the waiter down and placing it back.

Thankfully Sharon excused herself and it was just him and Brock.

“What you doing here?” Bucky hissed.

“Came here to support ya.” Brock said quickly, a little too quickly.

“No, you didn’t, you're here for the avengers.”

Brock's face flushed and he stared at his feet shifting one over the other.  
“‘m sorry.” he mumbled.

Bucky looked at him, feeling an instant wave of guilt, Brock hadn’t done anything wrong, in fact he was the only ally in the massive building.  
“Well, thanks...but we can go now.”

“Not yet, please a little longer.”  
The pouting face on, and Bucky gave in, dragging his boyfriend to the secluded corner.

“Wanna gawp at celebrities, do it here.”

Brock was by his side, not touching, never touching, but he was grinning broadly till Bucky kicked him in the ankle.

“‘ts a bloody funeral.” he hissed.

Brock's face fell instantly, he swallowed his awkwardness away, “‘m sorry babe-

“Look can we leave, I wanna go.” Bucky really couldn’t deal with any more stress and watching the persistent smile growing on his boyfriend's face was driving him bonkers. He was dangerously close to falling into stressed-hysteria.  
“Brock.” he growled through his teeth.

The giddy smile fell again and Brock moved in front of him, hands gripping on to Bucky's hips, first time he had ever touched in public and that was because he was an excited puppy struggling to control himself, “‘m sorry, it’s-I’ve only ever seen this place from the outside, I mean look at it…”Bucky didn’t look, he didn’t give a fuck how lavish and posh the place was, “‘n all the avengers are here.” His voice spiked at the end from joy and it was Bucky’s turn to grab his waist.

“It’s a funeral, don’t you dare ask for one autograph.”  
The fat bottom lip protruded but Bucky wasn’t letting up this time.

“Fine.” Brock pouted, “but I might take pictures on the sly.”

Bucky bulged his eyes out, there was a real possibility they were gunna drop on his cheeks.

“Was a joke babe.” Brock whispered in his ear, following it with a cautious smile.

 

Steve swept back into the lobby scanning the area and targeting Bucky. His focus lingered on Brock, and his walk over was menacingly slow, trapping Brock and Bucky in the corner.

“I am so sorry for your loss.” Brock said, placing his hand on his heart with a bow, Bucky swallowed, he really was shit at this kinda thing but at least he wasn’t grinning like a moron anymore.

“Put’s things in perspective,” Steve said curtly, “can’t waste a day without the person you love…”

Brock did the unexpected, he wrapped an arm around Bucky’s back and held him, placing a quick peck to his cheek, “you're so right.”

The expression on Steve's face was murderous, Brock didn’t notice, Tony Stark had just strutted past, and he was drooling at him like a dog.  
Steve glared at the hand on Bucky's hip, his lips pulled back showing his pressed teeth and the glass held in his fingers exploded from pressure.

“Wow bud,” Brock said with a light laugh, “you're just showing off…”

The friendly joke was met by another death stare, this time Brock noticed stumbling over his words for something to say. “here-erm...have mine.” Brock held his untouched drink out and Steve took it.  
It exploded as fiercely as the one before, several people chatting in groups stopped, attention snapping to the three of them.

“Bud, maybe you should take a break, get your head together.” Brock tried, his fingers were still clasp around Bucky’s hip, thinking it would help the situation Bucky shuffled out of them, hoping to appease the pissed off Steve, he didn’t want to make a scene.

“I’m gunna, get my head sorted out, go somewhere remote...nice cabin in the woods.”  
Bucky’s gaze fell to the floor, he could hear the suggestion in the tone, the train of thought.

Brock nodded along, “yeah would do you some good, just chilling on your own, need to take some time out cap.”

The bitter laugh from Steve had Bucky shifting, eyes searching out the exit.  
“Who says I’ll be on my own....no fun on my own alone in the woods…”

It was Brocks turn to shift on his feet, unsettled, like a fifth grader desperate for a piss, that made Steve the angry teacher not letting either of them go.  
“We’ll erm, hope you enjoy it...actually me ‘n’ Bucky thinking of going away for a break ain’t we babe.”

Oh shit Bucky thought, utterly shit, he felt the colour drain for his face, from every inch of his skin, he was pretty sure the life was being sucked out of him and all that would remain would be a drained corpse. The look on Steve’s face was beyond murderous, he was verging a rampage of the building and the first victim would be Brock.

“I don’t think so.” Came Steve teeth clattering reply, Brock had zoned out at one of the other avengers, Black Widow strolling into the room, Bucky angled his body slightly in front of his unaware boyfriend, Steve was vibrating with rage and his stance had stiffened to a pounce pose.

Sharon passed, the golden ticket of escape, Bucky smiled at her, all of her focus snapped to him, and she made her way over, hooking her own arm around Steve's back.

“Steve was just saying, you two gunna have a break away from it all, some remote cabin.”

Steve’s intimidating waves vanished, seeing him completely gobsmacked had a despairing chuckle escaping Bucky’s lips, he wiped it away with his hand pretending to cough.

“That would be perfect Steve.” she breathed, adoring gaze directed at the stunned man.

Perfect time for escape thought Bucky, head flicking at Brock so he’d get the hint-  
“Hold up...you’re together? You’re related to Peggy right?”  
Brock shook his head, breathing out a ‘Jesus’ that all of them heard...

“Peggy would understand us being close after her death." Sharon said defensively.

“There’s being close and then there’s-  
Bucky struck out with his foot again, striking Brock in the ankle, he immediately snapped his mouth shut and shuffled after Bucky.

 

Freedom, so close the huge doors to the tower were in his sight, Bucky’s nightmare was over, Steve wouldn’t be at the care-home anymore, Steve would leave him the hell alone. He’d carry on as if the nightmare had never happened, him and Brock.  
Tony Stark lingered in the lobby, no longer in his funeral suit but the iron man one-

“Shit Bucky look-

Gripping Brocks elbow he tried his best to lead him past, “we’ve seen it, in the sky, all the freaking time.”

“But never this close.”

Tony was casually explaining how the suit worked, how he’d upgraded it after their last big battle, Brock was entranced, positively giddy watching the suit, he was in danger of combustion when Tony gripped his hand and held it to his breast plate.

“Fuck this.” Bucky breathed, grabbing two glasses off a tray and marching into the toilets.  
He downed one of the drinks, watched himself do it in the mirror, Jesus he thought, he was a mess, sweaty brow and hair in disarray.

“Bet you think that was funny…saying that to Sharon.”  
Bucky froze realising the worst place in the world to hide from someone is the toilets, he’d just caged himself in with the beast.

“Take all these messed up affections and put them on her, she actually wants it.”

“But I don’t want her,” Steve sneered the words, smacking his lips together as if he’d tasted something disgusting, “I have no interest in anyone but you, and I’ll get you one way or another.”

Bucky’s personal space was gone, crowded into the wall, the intense eyes were back and Bucky couldn’t help but shiver. Steve’s head ducked down, resting his lips on the side of Bucky's neck-

“Steve stop! You-you buried the love of your life today-”

Steve didn’t stop, his lips unstuck and he pressed open mouth kisses along Bucky’s thumping artery, “one of them, I’ve still got the other.”  
Bucky managed to scrape his wits together, shoving hard into Steve's chest, he didn’t budge, but he did straighten up to look at Bucky.

“Can you not hear how crazy that sounds?”

“Doesn’t make it less true.”

Bucky reached blind for his other glass, needing a swig of something stronger-  
Steve plucked the glass from his grip, smiling toothily, Bucky thought he was going to drink it, that’s what a sane person would do, but instead Steve poured it over Bucky’s head.

He gasped at the cool trickle down the back of his neck, the narrow rivers of ice over his face, flesh fizzled from the bubbles of the drink, and then Steve started licking at him, broad strokes of his tongue lapping up the drink with a content hum. The cool chill was still at his back, but his front was burning up from a hot tongue. Steve was kissing all over his face, drinking the alcohol away, he nibbled at Buckys sharp jaw and a whine broke free of his lips. He was buzzing on Steve attention, the whirl of thoughts in his head faded and he was in danger of losing himself again.

“Stop it, he-he’s just outside-

“Didn’t stop us last time.” Steve purred, continuing his caresses.

Bucky hated how his body reacted, hyper needy and sensitive. Steve so close, his mouth hot and heavy on his skin and when he sucked Bucky’s neck, a groan echoed in the room.

“I know what you want, what your body wants.”

“Want’s you to get offa me.” Bucky breathed, scrunching his face up at how wrecked his voice sounded.

Bucky couldn’t stop his body from trembling, or his knees from feeling weak. Fingers were tiptoeing under his shirt, scratching over his muscles, making him shiver and gasp. The heat was growing in his crotch, and he found himself leaning into the body in front of him, hoping it would just take him-

Snapping to his senses he slid from Steve's grip.  
“Stop this! You don’t love me, and I don’t love you.”

“Your body does, can’t get enough of me.”

He was flushing hard, biting down on his lip and shaking his head in a firm no, Steve cupped his cock with a raised eyebrow and his denial died. He fondled Bucky’s already aching cock through the material and he was mortified when his underwear felt damp, that turned on by Steve’s hand he was dripping in his shorts.

“I’ve been quite reasonable….”

Bucky suppressed a hysterical laughter, “reasonable? that’s one thing you’re not.”

Steve stopped his stroking hand and moved both towards Bucky’s hips, daggering his nails in, “I’ve given you time to get rid of him, given you time to adjust.”

“Adjust? I don’t even know what you want from me.”

“To be mine, heart, body, soul, _mine_ , just mine.”

Steve’s mouth was against his, he growled when Bucky pressed his lips firmly together not giving any access to the firm prodding tongue. Fingers were still daggering into his hipbones, he managed to get his hands in between and was pushing against Steve’s chest but he was a brick wall, unaffected by Bucky's slapping fists.

Steve’s eyes stayed open, red veins had split in the whites and Bucky felt a spike of fear rocket in his chest. He was spun around, back to the door, the black pits of eyes crinkled, the mouth battling for a taste lifted into a grin and then Bucky was staggering backwards in shock, air rushing from his mouth from a brute push by Steve.

“I’ve just buried the love of my life!” Steve shouted, voice despairing, “You’ve got a boyfriend!”

Bucky got his balance back, watching Steve with wide eyes, and a slack mouth. The feral look had gone, blue shinny eyes were watching him, the mouth that had attached to his was frantically wiped at as if dirty, that’s when he noticed Steve wasn’t focussed on him, he was looking apologetically over Bucky's shoulder.

A quick spin had him confronted with his shell-shocked boyfriend.

Bucky just stared, shaking his head, “‘t’s not what it looks like.”

Brock tilted back on his heels before rushing to the sink and bowing over, “you were kissing Captain America.”

“I wasn’t, I WASN’T kissing him!”

Brock’s eye’s travelled down Bucky’s body, hovering on the bulge pressing in his pants. He staggered turning the tap on fast. His cupped handful of water did nothing to slap the shock from his face.

“I’m sorry...it’s not the first time he’s tried it with me.” Came a sorrowful voice.

Bucky whirled on Steve, “get out, get out and leave me alone.”

Steve bobbed his head, giving Brock a small smile and a pat to the back on his way past.

“He’s fucked in the head Brock-

Brock peered up from his crunched position, silencing Bucky with a glare. He stood with a slow drawn out sigh, then his eyes pinpointed to the far end of the sinks, two empty flute glasses.

“How much have you had Bucky?”  
Bucky turned, the temptation to lie and say they were not his almost vocalised until Brock growled at him, “don’t say they're not, you reek of alcohol…”

“‘m sorry, I had two...but that doesn’t matter, what you saw with Steve-

“What I saw, my boyfriend pawing at him like a desperate dog, Jesus Bucky...you might as well of been humping his leg...,” he gripped his hair before his voice spiked in shrillness, “like what the fuck, they bury the old girl today and both you and that Shannon girl are on him.”

Bucky didn’t bother correcting the name, he was shaking his head, heart thundering in his chest in danger of breaking free, what could he say, I’ve never kissed him back but I’ve had multiple orgasms from his hands and mouth. The blood in his cock may’ve jumped ship and left but Brock had seen, there was no doubt he had been aroused.

“You’re meant to love me Bucky, like I love you!”

Bucky throat hurt when he went to reply he did, the words didn’t come out and instead he wheezed out a crushing, “sorry, I’m sorry...”

“Is this what you’ve been doing, getting wasted and trying your luck with anyone?”

“No!”

Brock held up his hands in surrender, “I’m done here Bucky, I’m not gunna get lied to, cheated on, ‘m done…”

Bucky followed the slumping shoulders out of the building, doing his best not to make a scene, not to give Steve any satisfaction. Jogging after Brock, Bucky called out for him to wait, Brock didn’t turn, didn’t want to acknowledge Bucky.  
He gripped Brocks elbow steering him around, “please Brock-

The slap to his face stung, was sharp and left a cool handprint on his flushed skin, but it was nothing compared to the tumbling feeling inside, Brock was stability and home and he was staring at Bucky like he was a lie, a worthless man.  
The worst thing was knowing he was right, he wasn’t worthy of Brock. He may not’ve kissed Steve, but he had done worse, craved those hands on his body even though he knew it was wrong.

“Bucky-jus-just...I need to get my head together...”

Bucky stood panting on the pavement, cheek burning, watching his saviour walk away.  
Footsteps sounded behind him and he just knew it was Steve, he turned putting every ounce of venom into his glare. Steve was unaffected by it, kept walking, hand outstretched to reach for Bucky’s cheek, he batted it away with a stream of curse words.

“Don’t you dare speak to him like that!”

Bucky blinked his tears away and refocussed on the old man passing them, “he’s a hero, world owes him.”

Steve held a hand up, friendly smile stretching his lips, “it’s okay he’s had a stressful night.”

“Well...that’s no excuse for him to talk to you like that.”

The cackle that escaped Bucky’s throat was full on pantomime villain, no one could see how unhinged Steve was, the concern wrinkling his skin, the big sincere eyes, the understanding smile, it was all an act.

“Stay away from me.” He growled firmly, shoving his finger into Steve’s chest and hoping it hurt him.

Steve just smiled shark-like with a one word reply, “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're still enjoying!  
> Let me know if ya'll want more <3
> 
> I think a trip to the cabin is needed ;)


	4. part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drink from Steve is never a good idea, unless your subconscious decides to go against you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudo's *virtual hugs*  
> It really makes it worth it!  
> Unbeta'd so typos are painfully mine.  
> Read the tags....  
> and if still unsure the end notes.

Bucky collapsed on his couch with a bottle of whiskey for company, Brock’s leather jacket was slumped over the side, dropped in a hurry before he eagerly went to the tower.

Gripping at it, Bucky arranged it over himself, immediately breathing in the scent of his boyfriend warm and spicy. He’d royally fucked up, struggling to think of a way of explaining himself he chose to drown his sorrows with something strong and burning, that added to his guilt, he was breaking another promise to Brock.

Brock’s notepad lay on the kitchen counter-top, scribbles of celebrity’s in full view, at least Bucky knew he would be returning at some point to collect it, then maybe Bucky could come up with a way of fixing the shit-show of hours previous.

 

He knew when Steve arrived, not from sight or sound but the shudder that rolled up his spine.

“Get out, or I’ll call the cops.”  
Bucky absentmindedly patted his pocket, trying to locate the stupid cell he’d been staring at for inspiration, a sorry was typed out for Brock but nothing else.

“Call them, will be interested to hear what you say.”  
The voice was controlled, clipped with a hint of amusement. Bastard Bucky thought, for a split second he considered hurling the bottle in the voice’s direction, but he wasn’t wasting good whiskey on Steve bloody Rogers.

The cell sat on the coffee table in front of him not his pockets, he glared at the device hoping it would sprout legs and run to him, but alas it didn’t. Bucky’s brain was fogged from alcohol and he didn’t fancy a night in the cells for wasting the cops time, who would believe him about Captain America anyway. He sighed, sinking back in the couch and analysing the paintwork of the ceiling.

Steve saw the movement as an invitation to join Bucky on the couch. They were sat in the dark, a glow from the still-open fridge showed their silhouette on the wall, Bucky watched the shadow as it reached out a hand.

“Don’t touch me.”

The hand didn’t stop closing the gap, Bucky knew it wouldn’t so he pulled out what he was concealing under his thigh, holding the handle with a shaking hand. The shadow stopped its movements, retracting away.  
“Bit extreme isn’t it?”

Bucky shrugged, it was what Steve had led him to, Steve was stronger, faster but against a jabbing knife. Bucky inwardly smiled, he could do some damage, enough for him to run and escape.  
“Don’t touch me and I won’t have to use it….”

“You like when I touch you…” Steve purred, Bucky saw him shift, turning his body so he was staring at the side of his face. “All the pretty moans and gasps you make when I touch you.”

“I fake it.” Bucky blurted, knowing both him and Steve knew it was a massive lie, no one had ever got him to make those sounds like Steve could. Bucky stared down sadly at the coat on his lap-

“You're angry, I understand, but I’m here, I can make it better.” Steve tried, words dripping with disdain.

“You can’t make this better.” Bucky pictured the crushed expression on Brock's face and his stomach sloshed with unease, Brock didn’t deserve that. 

Steve sighed, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, he was still in his funeral suit, pressed and crumple free, Bucky looked like he’d been folded several times in comparison.  
“Could've been worse, he could've walked in with me fucking you against the wall.”

Bucky hissed into the bottle, pulling his lips away to reply just as snappily, “wouldn’t of gone that far.”

“We both know it would’ve….besides I did him a favour.”

“How-how did you do him a favour?”

“You don’t love him Bucky...it’s selfish to stay with him.”

Bucky scoffed, coughing on the fiery burn of amber, “I don’t love you either-

“Not yet, but you will.”

Bucky could’ve laughed at that, but he remembered hoping beyond hope those feelings would grow for Brock, he’d been a fool to think they’d surface. Apparently Steve was just as deluded.  
“You can’t make me love you.”

Steve’s patronising nod had Bucky swigging an extra large gulp of whiskey.

“You don’t know me Steve, you know nothing about me...”

Again the shadow of Steve nodded extra slowly and Bucky growled, flexing his fingers around the knife.  
“I know you’re unhappy, lonely-

“’n who’s faults that! The only person I got now hates me.”

Steve’s shadow shifted, inching along the couch, “you’re lonely even when your with him, two years and you haven’t moved in with him, still just see each other at the weekends, two years and each time he’s asked you for more commitment, you’ve made excuses, you are not suppose to be with him.”

“But I’m suppose to be with you,” Bucky blurted into the top of the bottle with a shrill voice, “I’m suppose to be with some deranged, psycho.”

Steve sighed loudly, his figure slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands, “I’ll admit, lust and jealousy made me act rash-

“You drugged me up and kidnapped me!”

“I had to make you see you were living a lie, wake you up from it. You’re lonely Bucky, you have no one, you go to work and get home, then what do you do? You sit here in this house you can barely afford and think about the story’s all those people tell you, imagine them coz there’s nothing interesting about your own life-

“Fuck you.” Bucky hissed, clinking the bottle against his teeth, “I love my job-

“It’s your escape, your excuse for not living.”

Bucky bristled, tapping the edge of the knife against the glass, “I’d rather that then be drugged and raped by you. You’re a monster...”

“I can make you feel alive, I already do, get your heart racing, breath stuttering, body trembling...”

“Sex, emotionless, meaningless sex-

“It’s not emotionless, not meaningless when its all you’ve been able to think about for weeks...”

Bucky absolutely hated the way Steve could look into his head, as if his thoughts were transparent-

“You wanted me earlier, you still want me now.”

Bucky shook his head, “I didn’t want you, I wanted to go home with my fucking boyfriend!”

Something snapped in Steve and his hand whipped out viper fast, he clutched at the jacket, tearing it off Bucky's legs.  
“You are not his!”

Bucky hadn’t had time to swing the knife, didn’t have a second to react at all, the jacket was thrown to the floor and promptly trampled on. Seeing Steve so elated at crushing the jacket had Bucky’s anger igniting.

“I’m his,” he said down to the jacket. “I want him, I want him to screw me in our bed, I want him to blow me in the kitchen…-

Bucky grinned at the stunned expression on Steve, the struck puppy look, then the monster returned, launching down the couch and pinning Bucky to it. The bottle went flying, the knife was useless in his hand when Steve had tight hold of his wrist, one tactical squeeze and it dropped to the floor.

“Could’ve got it off you anytime.”

Bucky tried to move, Steve had straddled him, thighs were pinning his legs and his arms were stretched out above his head, he was completely at Steve's mercy. 

“Why didn’t you grab it straight away then?”

The smile that spread over Steve’s face was slow, cocky, “you think you have more control over this situation, you think you have a choice, your ignorance is entertaining.”

“Fuck you!” Bucky hissed.

Steve laughed in reply, grounding his hips slightly, “we’ll get to that soon, once you’ve calmed down.”

“Get offa me!”

Thrashing was useless when Steve had him pinned, and Bucky plotted a way of escape, once Steve had thought he had chilled out he was gunna kick him where it hurts and run like the wind to the door.

Steve seemed to read the defiance, gripping both Bucky’s wrists in one hand and pinning them above his head, the ultimate humiliation, Steve had him trapped easily, rendering him helpless, unable to fight off his wandering hand.

 

The free hand gripped the collar of Bucky’s crumpled shirt, and with one firm tug he split the material, buttons pinging off in all different directions.

“Even when you're angry you're gorgeous.”

“Let go!” Bucky tried, hating how breathless his voice was becoming, all Steve had done was expose his chest. His body was heaving and under Steve’s gaze it started to rise and fall faster, not in fear but anticipation, his body was a traitor to his mind.

Steve tugged Bucky’s pants, raising an eyebrow when he glanced down at his eager body.  
“So stubborn, but I know what you want.”

He leaned down, laying his lips against Bucky's throat, the barest of touch, his hand slid down into Bucky's shorts, taking a firm grip.  
Bucky tried not to tremble, tried to contain his gasp, but Steve was chuckling by his throat, the vibration of amusement annoyed him but not enough to stop the sensations from feeling good.

Steve eased Bucky suit pants down, pulling the waist band of his shorts to free his hard on. Steve’s thumb swiped the head of Bucky’s cock, applying light pressure at the slit until moisture escaped, pre come that Steve circled back into the flesh, making Bucky wither and whine, it kept coming making him more wet, more receptive to the slide, the pressure.

“That’s it Buck, feels good doesn’t it...”

Bucky squirmed, and in his squirming his cock moved, seeking friction even though he didn’t want it. He was shuddering, trying his hardest not to struggle, when he did his body strained, every nerve feeding to the ones Steve’s thumb was manipulating.

“Nghh, stop-

The movements got quicker and slicker, Bucky had to control the urge to start rocking his hips. Every ounce of will power went into paralysing his body, not reacting, it was a shame his mouth couldn’t follow that command, he was moaning and gasping, throat growing steadily more hoarse.

“God, the sounds you make Bucky...”

Steve’s mouth was hot against his skin, leaving a trail of fire, and when he moved down to tease Bucky's nipple a full on body shiver rattled his bones.

There was a nip of teeth when Steve closed on his bud, making Bucky groan and jerk upwards. The fist holding his erection began to move and the shame at the amount of pre-come that had leaked from him had him huffing angrily, turning his flushing face to hide in the back of the couch.

“No need for any lube when you get this excited.”

Bucky choked back his curse when Steve started moving his thumb in fast circles along the seam, fuck it felt good, especially when Steve ducked back down to continue his caressing on his chest. His tongue sloshed enthusiastically till the tip of his nipple tingled with over stimulation, then he started on the other one.

“So sensitive.” Steve breathed up to him, words radiating smugness.

Bucky was wailing, gasping and grunting, trying his hardest not to but failing miserable, Steve could take over his body effortlessly, play on its weaknesses and no matter how much Bucky didn’t want to be turned on, he was.

Another laugh from Steve rumbled his sore nipple, the dark eyes drew back, watching him with the controlling intensity, that arrogance that grated Bucky's nerves. Steve watched him like he was owed, belonged to Steve’s hands and body, and Bucky wasn’t going to just let him think that, not even if it was true.

His orgasm built, Steve picked the pace up, staying perched above Bucky, wanting to see the moment all his fight and resolve broke. He didn’t have to wait long, had Bucky not been emotionally drained he might’ve had more control over his bodily functions.  
The orgasm ripped through his whole body, making him howl to the hovering man, ecstasy was spiking in his head, the tingles were like nothing he’d ever felt before, and just before Bucky lost himself in the waves, he shouted out a name, soul purpose of wiping that shit-eating grin off Steve’s face….

“Broooock!”

He came with great spurts, staring directly into the watching pits.

Steve froze, eye’s dissolving down to pinpricks, another unsure laugh bubbled from Bucky's throat as he came down from the high, pissing the other man off was a full on achievement and Steve looked a mixture of shocked, hurt and furious, Bucky was unable to contain himself.

“You think that’s funny?” Steve growled.

Bucky pouted his lips and nodded his head against the couch, he’d gained back some control from Steve, didn’t do what he wanted, in fact he did something to positively enrage Steve.

“Fine…” Steve mumbled, not letting Bucky up from the couch, the free hand rummaged in his pocket and retrieved a pair of handcuffs.

Bucky readied himself to fight like a mad man, Steve would have to loosen his grip to get them around his wrists and he’d be ready- Steve shifted so suddenly and with such brute power Bucky couldn’t react, next thing he knew, he was on the floor, face down with Steve on his back.

His arms were bent behind his spine, loud click of the cuff sounding out in the silent house,

“Asshole-.” before Bucky could say more, material was stuffed in his mouth, secured firmly at the back of his head, Steve’s tie was lodged between his lips, pinching the edges, trying to speak made the edges twinge with pain, rubbing harshly.

He was hauled to his unsteady feet, pants and shorts hauled up with aggression. He was marched with speed through the house to the front door.

Steve dragged him outside, scanning the area before rushing to the car. Bucky did his best to dig his heels in, but Steve just responded by lifting him off the ground, a fireman's lift with his bound hands in the air.

Fighting Steve was no use, he had to think more tactically, relax and use the element of surprise. Bucky’s plan went to hell when the trunk of the battered beetle opened.

Shit, was the resounding thought when he was shoved into the small space, the lid crunched down and a vague pounding of pain registered in his head before his mind swam with dizziness.

 

He came round with aching limbs and a dry mouth, he tried to open his eyes, but was shocked at the persistent black. He was trapped. The space was stuffy, air restricted, darkness crowded him and when the engine roared Bucky's heart jumped into his throat, making it difficult to draw in air.

Like that night at the lake the car was plunged into darkness, like that night, he was trapped, unable to help himself, and just like that night his lungs began to hitch erratically, he was going to drown, he remembered the ice water that flooded the car, remembered when he pressed his face to the roof for his final breath it took over and burned a raw channel down his throat, grating the delicate skin till it felt alight, ice and fire.

It was happening again and he couldn’t stop it, the darkness pressed against him until he wheezed painfully, convinced his throat was filling with freezing lava, blocking the channel of life. 

“Somebody help!” Bucky yelled the words with everything he had, rubbing his face against the bottom of the trunk to remove the scrap of material from his mouth, his breathing was gasping, desperate pants, heart beating hummingbird fast, sweat dripped in his hairline, down his back but it only increased the fear, water, he could feel water on his skin, the car was filling up-

“Help me please!!!”

The roaring stopped, engine finally giving up its fight to survive in deep water, this was it, the moment everything disappeared, there was a clunk, and slam, and then the lid on his coffin was yanked open and he blearily looked at the sky.  
Bucky was still struggling for breath when he was pulled from the car, sat on the edge, a metallic ping barely registered in his muffled ears, but the cuffs dropped to the floor. He reached his aching arms around the person in front of him, hooking their neck, and holding on. That’s what he did to Brock when he revived him, secured himself to his chest and refused to let go, it worked the last time so he was trying his luck again.

“Breathe, just breathe...deep and slow.”  
The voice tickled his ear, in the back of his mind he wanted to push away from it but he wasn’t risking going back in the water. He did his best to copy the breathing of the man in front, to feel his stroking hands, but nothing registered he was utterly numb.

The lake, he remembered coughing a lot, choking on the acid water, remembered the burn, even up his nose, the uncomfortable feeling-  
“Sick- need ta be sick-.”

The man shifted him towards the side of the road, and he collapsed into the grass heaving, no water came up, no burning embers.

“Just breathe.” The voice commanded, snaking a hand under his open shirt and rubbing his back. He concentrated on the movement, the repetitive circles on his skin. Breathing levelled out, his heart thumped its normal beats but his body still shook erratically.  
“Let’s get you in the car…”

He followed obediently, slumping into the passenger seat of the beetle. Steve’s beetle he realised with a sinking feeling...looking over he saw him climb into the car, blue eye’s big and confused, frown lines stacking up on his forehead.

“What happened?”

Still shaking in the seat, Bucky glared at the concerned man watching.  
“Some bastard kidnapped me, that's what happened...”

Steve didn’t laugh, he considered Bucky's words seriously, “Someone kidnapped you, who? What’s there name?-

“I’m talking about you, you jerk.”

He would’ve shouted, but it required too much energy, he hung his head in his hands and waited for the jitters to stop.

Pulling back his hand he saw the drops of red, the trunk of the car had struck him on the way down.

Steve saw too and quickly tugged Bucky towards him, parting the hairs, “small cut.” He said with a detached tone.  
It may’ve been small but it felt like a boulder had sprouted on top of him, not to mention the intense ache in his throat and lungs, all in all, Bucky felt pretty damn tender and he didn’t wish to be manhandled by Steve, so he tugged himself away.

A cloud of warmth surrounded him, Steve had tucked his suit jacket over Bucky's shoulders, still looking just as stricken.

“You were shouting about water-

Bucky raised his hand for silence and prayed the crazy man beside him would understand and not ask. He didn’t want to picture that night anymore, where he drank far too much, took a turn in the road far too late-

“Fine.” Steve snapped, losing his concerned tone, “but you will tell me later.”

“Fine.” Bucky parroted back, trying and failing to shuffle out of Steve's coat, it was the only thing that offered warmth, he doubted the banger of a beetle had heating.

“Where are we?” Bucky asked trying to stop the overly watchful Steve, they were surrounded by fields on an empty road, Bucky judged how far he’d be able to run before Steve caught him, he doubted far with his aching body, it really had been cramped in the trunk-

“You can try...but I think I’ll enjoy hunting you down.”

Bucky huffed a breath, “well not gunna do it then if you’ll enjoy it.”

Steve chuckled, pulling off from the grass verge. A car, that’s all Bucky had to do, spot a car and dangle out the window to be noticed.  
Steve read the stream of thought and tugged painfully on Bucky's shoulder till his head landed on his thigh, pinning it there.

“What the hell!”

“Don’t want you to remember the route…”  
The cabin, Bucky realised, they were going to the stupid cabin, Bucky groaned, trying his damndest to get up from the living cushion of Steve.  
“Steve, this has gone on long enough...take me home.”

The hand on the side of his head didn’t let up, and he growled, opening his mouth and getting ready to sink his teeth into Steve’s flesh.

“You do that, and you’ll go back in the trunk.”

Bucky snapped his jaw closed, snorting a puff of air, he didn’t have the energy to fight anymore, he’d do that once they got to the cabin, lure Steve into a false sense of security then take off into...wherever the hell it was…

The hand against him moved into his hair, carding through his brown sticky strands, being careful to avoid the stinging area. Bucky gritted his teeth at the sensations, he didn’t want it to feel good, didn’t want it to make him drowsy and his eyelids weighted, it did both and he cursed himself for weakness.

“You’re still cold…”

Not knowing whether it was a question or statement Bucky just grunted, yes he was still trembling like a child, was unable to stop his body's lasting reaction of terror.

“Drink will warm you up…”

Bucky clapped his hands in slow applause, “hilarious…”

“‘m serious, there's a bottle in the back.”

“‘n I remember what happened last time.”

Steve sighed loudly, flicking Bucky's wound till he yelped, “it’s whiskey...wanted to toast to Peggy with you-

“Were you planning on doing that before or after you got me off on the couch…”

Another ticked off sigh and the hand caressing Bucky's hair vanished, Steve twisted reaching for the bottle in the back.  
Bucky listened to the hiss of the cap and did his best not to swallow an invisible mouthful, he really was thirsty, and the burn was bound to sooth his aching throat, not to mention falling asleep right then would be a blessing. He felt so heavy he was in danger of falling through the car anyway, he just wanted it to be instant.  
Bucky turned onto his back and watched as Steve brought the bottle to his lips, taking a large audible gulp full.

“Normal whiskey…see.”

“You said it doesn’t affect you, nothing does…”

Blue eyes narrowed down at Bucky, “it doesn’t-

“So you proving that it’s not spiked is pointless.”

Steve stared, many seconds passed with him solely watching Bucky and not the road, perhaps Bucky should’ve cared, but at least if they crashed he’d get separated from Steve at the hospital….his thoughts halted when an enormous smile expanded Steve's lips.

“Okay fine...but it will help you sleep and warm you up.”

“So it’s drugged?”

Steve chuckled darkly, pulling his eyes off Bucky on his lap and fixing on the road, “maybe...maybe not, gotta trust me.”

“You just carry bottles of that shit around to drug people.”

“I told you that was a special brew, all for you.”

“Lucky me.” Bucky snarked, earning him another flick to the head.

The car bumbled along the road, rocking him side to side on Steve’s thigh, the vehicle whined, shuddered and Bucky was sure the engine was about to break, leaving him stranded in the middle of nowhere with the deranged avenger, he didn’t wanna deal with that scenario.

“Fuck it.” he muttered, finding the bottle, for some unknown reason he analysed the label and Steve raised an eyebrow.

“You think I wrote the ingredients on the side?”

“Whatever…”

Steve shook his head, “will make you feel good, trust me.”

“Funnily enough, I don’t.”

“We’re hours away, you're too tired to run. Drink it….or I’ll make you.”

There was steel in Steve’s eyes, a declaration of absolute intent and Bucky found him sighing at the bottle in his grip.

“...Whiskey?-  
He smelled it, and it sure did smell like whiskey, but then again he had already drank a bit, he couldn’t completely trust his senses, or his state of mind, he was willingly considering take a drink from Steve...

“Yeah, will send you to sleep like a baby…”

Not the most comforting thing for Steve to say, as far as Bucky was concerned baby’s didn’t sleep particularly well, but he’d had a shocker of a day, he just wanted it all to melt away to nothing, for a few hours, emotional and physical pain gone. It sounded heavenly to Bucky.

“An-and you’ll leave me to sleep?”

“Until we get to the cabin.”

Bucky puffed a breath, staring up at Steve’s face, “At the cabin...we’ll talk, work this out?”

There was still a chance of convincing Steve this infatuation was messed up, some crazy attachment thing was going on, maybe he latched onto Bucky after he helped him at the care home…That was the only explanation Bucky could think of.  
Steve nodded, just the once with no emotion.

Bucky pretended to swig it, giving Steve accusing looks, but collapsing in a heap was the most appealing thing in that moment, Brock was painful to think about, the current situation was a mess and he’d buried one of his friends that morning. That was just the emotional aspects of the roaring in his head. Physically he wanted to drop. Fuck it he thought, taking a gulp and hissing at the burn. It had a hint of whiskey, but only a hint.

“‘m not gunna do anything I promise, not till we’re at the cabin.”

By then Bucky would’ve stopped shaking and recovered from his exhaustion, he could continue his plot to take off when Steve’s back was turned.

 

The effects were immediate, his head filled with lightness, swaying on his shoulders, he thumped down hard on Steve’s thigh and vaguely registered the other man’s ‘ouch’.

Good thought Bucky, he was glad he’d fallen like dead weight and ached Steve's leg, he’d finally managed to damage him without even meaning to. The fluffy cloud in his head was the same as the first night when he’d been strapped down to the bed. The cinema in his mind started replaying their time before, and Bucky felt the swelling in his crotch.

The fingers were back in his hair, scratching lightly against his scalp, his tremor ridden body was subsiding and he sighed blissfully.

“Feeling better?”

The stupid burst of pleasure in his head throbbed when he answered yes, unable to help it. Another load of drugs, it would’ve been fine had Steve not’ve asked him questions. He wanted to sleep, not feel good, not feel horny.  
He drifted in a bubble, the weight of his body disappearing, the nerves in his body all numbed their aching and stinging, only his scalp was registering, comforting strokes to his skin, making him shudder.

“See you like me touching you…”

Another agreement had fireworks going off in his mind, a mini celebration of stimulus. The pads of fingers pressed harder, and he found his head tilting trying to follow them, keep them on the path of hair for as long as possible.  
He whined when they stopped to retrace their steps, couldn’t help it.

The hand moved to his neck, tiptoeing across the skin, setting it alight, it slid into his still opened shirt, feeling the dips and valleys of his chest, mapping him out.  
Nails scratched hard enough to feel raw, he groaned at the fierce burn they created.  
The nub of his nipple was circled and a full on body ripple travelled down to his toes accompanied by a long drawn out moan. The shadow the other side of his closed lids breathed a laugh down at him.

“Like that?”

His brain processed it was a question, and he was quick to answer with a yes, breath hitching when the intrepid fingers nipped at him.  
Bucky shivered, rubbing his cheek against the heated pillow below him, the warmth supporting him shifted, continued till Bucky whined at it to stop, it was drawing his attention away from the hand on his body. He buried his face into the flesh with a growl, trying to pin it’s insistent fidgeting.

There was a jerking motion and Bucky slumped forward then back, the warmth underneath his head was tugged away and he bounced on something soft. There was a slam and another shake of the room he was in and then he was being pulled, into the cold air.

Spine prickling with the sensation of harsh cold he gasped, trying to lean forward only to be shoved back.  
His pants were being attacked, torn at and even though he wanted to open his eyes for some clarification, he was too tired, they stayed sealed and he let the shadow do what it wanted.

“Breaking m’ promise,” came a gruff voice by his ear, “Can’t resist you like this.”

Bucky made a pathetic sound in his throat and had he been in his right mind he would’ve dived to the floor in embarrassment.

“You want that Buck, me to have you right now?”

The yes flooded his head, and he was tilting backwards, following the curvature of something solid and ice cold.  
The material caging his legs was gone and he felt his knees being bent, and folded behind something warm and soft.

“Keep your legs round me like that.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, cantering his hips to get the show moving, his body knew what came next and was positively trembling with need.

“Jesus Buck,” the voice groaned, and somewhere in the back of his pleasure clogged mind he felt smug, the controlled man was effected by his desperation.  
Bucky felt a wet finger parting his cheeks, pushing in and breaching his body, far to slowly for his liking, he needed it faster, harder.

“Pl-please.”

Another finger was added at Bucky's begging, delving inside his craving body, still the annoyingly slow pace, still not stretching him enough.  
He sobbed out another please and was rewarded with another finger, his cloudy head cottoned on to the pattern and he was quick to say please, again and again.

The pressure was pushing inside him, deep and all consuming, the burn wasn’t painful it made him whimper for movement, for more stimulus and he found himself rocking back, impaling himself, as much as he could with his limited ability to move.

“That’s it, take what you need.”

“No fingers, need-need-

“What do you need?” The voice breathed in his earlobe, nipping the flesh, “you want my cock.”

“Yes!” Bucky cried, and he didn’t have time to miss the fingers, a firm pressure was stretching him open, pushing deep inside till he was curling forward again. Another gentle push and he was back on the cold surface again.

Bucky moaned, trying to get the other mans hips to respond to him, push back, but they didn’t and his staggered movements weren't enough.

“Please.” he gasped, and the shadow got closer, an inch away from his eyelids. He could tell there was a smile in the other man's voice.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me, pl-please.”

The shadow shook his head and Bucky whined, struggling to open his eyes, surely in his pathetic state the man couldn’t deny him.  
Black eyes rimmed with yellow lashes and the same sand glowing hair, Bucky’s brain fumbled over itself, latching onto a name.

“Steve….please!”

That’s what the voice wanted, as soon as the name breezed his lips, the air was bulldozed from his lungs by a forceful thrust, followed by another and another. His nails scratched at the steel beneath him, vibrating his fingernails and making him shudder at the noise, there was too much, body hot and cold, pleasure building in his body and his head, the sounds of scrambled at metal and wet thrusts and then the more alluring sound, hidden beneath his own cries and howls there were pants, breathless and harsh, a possessive grunting near his face.

“Mine.” The voice growled and all Bucky could do was repeat yes back, shuddering with each ecstasy wave unleashed, swamping his head. A warm coil wrapped round his cock, sliding with his neediness, it didn’t take long, the repeated word was still shooting off sparks in his head, his prostate and cock synced in their pleasure and he was coming, hands no longer sliding for purchase on the cool surface but wrapping around a warm neck. The thrusting inside continued with wild abandonment and a long drawn out groan tickled right down Bucky’s ear.

Bucky tucked his face into the man’s moist neck, breathing his scent deep into his body, masculine and powerful.

“You love me touching you, love me fucking you and holding you afterwards.”  
The answer to all three was a yes, a big resounding yes that he spoke into the mans neck making the other man chuckle and kiss his cheek.

Bucky was pretty sure his body had locked round the one in front of him, arms and legs secured as the man came back to himself. The golden haired man was strong, supporting him with just one arm while the other propped them up against a car. An ugly old beetle. Steve, his fuck-drained mind supplied, Bat-shit crazy Steve, he’d been fucked by him...again, in fact he’d pretty much begged him for it.

The powerful pulse against his cheekbone vibrated through his whole body, he snuggled deeper into the neck on offer, following the drumming sound into sleep, not caring that it was Steve that had run him to the point of boneless collapse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Panic attack and drugged sex, that pretty much sums up this part...
> 
>  
> 
> yeahhhhh, hope your enjoying....


	5. part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cabin in the woods, well at least he's not drugged this chapter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bitttch to write, but hopefully you'll enjoy.  
> Thanks for the kudos and comments <3  
> Unbeta'd so ya know there will be errors, spent so long looking at it I forgot what words look like... :P

A bursting crackle stirred Bucky in his sleep, he sighed happily snuggling back into warmth. Peeking through one eye he saw an orange glow, the spitting yellow and red of fire. He blinked the room into focus, it was dark, the only light was from the roaring flames engulfing the wood they burned. 

 

From the small amount he could see, there was wood, beams on the ceiling, wooden floorboards in front of the fireplace, other than smoke, he could pick out the fresh smell of outdoors, pine trees and moss. There was another scent, the one of the man behind him, even his scent was dominating and made Bucky’s stomach flip with excitement and dread. Small puffs of air were brushing the back of his neck regularly, telling him Steve was asleep.

Heat was to Bucky spine, the press of hot skin against his naked body, a heavy arm dangled over his side, the light from the fire shone on the limb showing off pale flawless skin, nothing like Brocks, too smooth and the hair was lighter, not to mention Brock would never sleep encasing Bucky like that.

The other arm of Steve’s was cushioning Bucky’s neck and when he spotted the hand at the end he was shocked to see his own fingers laced through, knotting the two of them together.  
Shit was his resounding thought, Steve’s hand, Steve’s heat around him, Steve’s intoxicating scent... how could something so nice and comforting be so bloody sinister.

From Bucky’s position on the floor he spied a window, the sky was dull, not pitch black like his unadjusted eyes had thought, the faint singing of birds told him it was early morning, and the location was somewhere rural.  
He angled his head up, only a fraction to see if he could locate the door, or a phone-  
The arm clamped down on his ribs hard, pinning him to the floor.

“‘n where do you think you’re going?”  
The voice rumbled the base of his neck, tickling down to his spine, he couldn’t help but shudder and the voice behind him laughed, drawing Bucky closer, till lips brushed the shell of his ear.

“You gotta let me up.” Bucky tried, but the arm didn’t relax, it coiled tighter.

“Why?”

He really had no idea what to say to that, somehow telling Steve he was going to launch out the cabin as fast as he could wasn’t the best idea, instead he rolled over, wincing at the ache between his legs. The soreness that told him he’d been vigorously fucked in the not so distant past.

“So much for letting me sleep…”

Steve retrieved his arm from under Bucky's neck, propping his head up and looking down at Bucky with a wistful smile. The fire made his skin glow, shadowed his eyes and made his lips appear blood red, Bucky was faced with the devil, grinning affectionately at him.

“You knew what would happen if you had that stuff.”

The knowing smile dancing on the flicking face irritated Bucky’s insides, “you said you’d let me sleep…”

Steve rolled his eyes dramatically, before releasing his bottom lip with a pop.  
“And I did...between other activities.”

Bucky’s skin flushed furiously when he remembered being pulled from the car, being shoved over the front and ravaged by Steve, thankfully he had turned away from the fire, his mortified-pink blotched cheeks were hidden from Steve’s watchful eyes.

“And after you so kindly begged me to have you against the car, we got back in and continued on our way.”

It didn’t matter that he was in shadow, he was pretty sure Steve could feel the humiliation rolling off his skin in waves, at least it was just that once Bucky thought-

“For an hour...but you, sat there, moaning so pitifully to be touched….”  
Bucky whipped his hand up, bawling it to a fist and sinking his teeth into it, the squeak still vocalised and Steve laughed.

“Do you not remember Bucky?”

That wasn’t the problem, Bucky could remember Steve’s lips around him, sucking him off in an unforgivable manner. His fingers hand gripped onto the blonde strands desperately as he shot off into the searing heat of his mouth.

“Then I let you sleep.”

Still chomping on his knuckles Bucky drew his eyes up to Steve’s, mischief danced on his features and Bucky felt the pit in his stomach plummet.

“But then you started withering again, groaning and shuffling in the seat...and I couldn’t leave you uncomfortable like that.”  
Bucky swallowed as his mind supplied the final memory, Steve had pulled him onto his lap, impaled him on his swollen cock and fucked like a man possessed. It explained the tenderness between his legs, the throb in his knees and the soreness to his back where the steering wheel had pressed-

“I didn’t think it was possible in the beetle, but you proved me wrong, took it beautifully.”

Bucky moved his hands fast to push at Steve’s chest, but all it did was slide himself away from the makeshift bed, Steve easily pulled him back and crushed him in a hug.  
“Get offa me!”

“That’s not what you were saying earlier.” Steve replied with ten tonnes of amusement, Bucky ducked his head forward and bit Steve on the chest hard.

Steve hissed angrily, a steel grip clutched at Bucky's chin moving him away.  
“Do that again and I’ll tie and gag you, might even shove you back in the trunk till you behave.”

A fearful chill ran through Bucky’s body and Steve watched curiously, eyebrows angling toward each other and eyes creased.

“Tell me about it...”

Bucky shook his head, he didn’t wanna tell Steve about the lake, there was no point, nothing good would come of telling the deranged avenger.

“I wasn’t asking, I was telling….you were yelling about water.”

 

Bucky sighed, at least talking about something terrifying would distinguish his burning face, he’d rather the uncomfortable feeling of remembering than mortified arousal.  
“The lake...I told you I met Brock at a lake...”

Steve stiffened before grumbling unhappily, “I remember....”

“I’d been drinking, the road was slippery with ice...and I crashed into the lake. The car filled so fast and I couldn’t get out....if it wasn’t for Brock I would’ve died Steve.”

Steve pulled Bucky closer laying a kiss to his forehead, Bucky allowed it, deciding compassionate Steve, he had a chance of getting through to.

“He pulled me from the car, gave me CPR, got me to hospital, I owe Brock everything-

“But you don’t love him.”

Mouth propped open to disagree, Bucky paused, made an odd squeak in the back of his throat and sighed.  
“No...”

“Staying with him is selfish.”

Bucky frowned at the words, not seeing how he was being selfish, Brock loved him unconditionally and he wasn’t going to break his heart-

“There might be someone out there for him and your stopping him from finding them, you lie to him every time you tell him you love him, we had sex in your kitchen when he was meters away...”

Bucky felt so small he was in danger of becoming microscopic, said as bluntly as that, he was selfish, didn’t deserve someone like Brock. He wondered whether Steve was right, instead of self sacrificing to ensure Brock was happy was he doing the opposite, keeping him when there was someone more suited to his affections.

Brock wasn’t cuddly, or affectionate, finding it harder coming out as gay especially with his homophobic father. His teenage years had been tough, and his body showed the conflicted of what he wanted to be and who he was, scar’s from fights, burn marks from his father’s cigarettes. Brock deserved a stable partner after everything he’d been through, someone who also wanted to keep their affections away from the public eye, someone who wouldn’t be seduced by a drug lacing maniac.

 

“He saved your life...if it wasn’t for him, I would’ve lost you before I even knew you...for that he has a free pass, just this once.”  
Bucky frowned, mouthing the words back, before saying a few aloud, “free pass?”

Steve nodded, hand resting against Bucky's cheek gently, “he hurt you.”

Bucky spluttered a half cry of outrage, half hysterical laugh, “he slapped me because of you!”

“He still hurt you, damaged something of mine…”

Ignoring the ‘mine’ Bucky focused on Steve’s backwards idea of hurt.  
“You shut a trunk on my head.” Bucky yelled, pointing to the gash in his hair line, it wasn’t bleeding anymore but still stung when he prodded it.

“That was your fault, you should've ducked.”  
The snappy tone was contradicted by the gentle fingers parting Bucky’s hair, locating the damaged area, it was the first hint of vulnerability Steve had shown. The fingers moved down to Bucky's cheek again, touch so light it was actually irritating. They didn’t stop their mapping until they got to Bucky neck, the red nick in his skin was long gone, a barely noticeable white line remained from Mr Tracker's blade….  
“I won’t let anyone get away with damaging what’s mine...”

“Steve….”The air in Bucky's chest was suddenly restricted, a niggling thought was gathering momentum. “Mr Tracker---you didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?” Steve replied, voice laced with innocence.

“He died in his sleep... “ Bucky said, more to himself then Steve, it was normal for residents to pass away, Mr Tracker had been in fine physical fitness but sometimes these things were hard to predict. He’d been in a different part of the home and wasn’t strictly under Bucky’s care, the death hadn’t particularly registered with everything else going on in Bucky’s life, but now...

“He did die in his sleep...made sure it was quick, didn’t want him to suffer, had he hurt you more...well, I would’ve got creative.”

Bucky’s heart missed a beat, he gripped onto Steve’s face and stared into his shadowed eyes, “please Steve, don’t joke-

“Who’s joking...He was a danger to you, couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t do it again-

Bucky released Steve’s face, trying to wiggling himself out of Steve’s grip. He needed air, he needed to be out of Steve’s arms, out of the stupid cabin...but the surrounding cage only tightened.

“Steve, he was an old frail man, what- why...I got hurt by accident. It wasn’t his fault.”

“Well I’ve just made sure no accidents like that one can happen again.”

The calm reply was staggering, starts of sentences caught in Bucky’s throat till he just blurted out, “You can’t just kill people!”

Steve released a bitter laugh, holding Bucky effortlessly and stopping him struggling, “that’s what we do, we defend against threats, make sure everyone is safe, go about there days without fear, there’s blood on my hands, I’m not ashamed of it.”

“There’s a difference between killing some whack job who’s trying to dominate the world and suffocating an old man in his bed.”

“You’re right, was a lot easier,” he squeezed Bucky tight, “an the rewards better, knowing you’re safe...”

Bucky opened his mouth to gasp, to yell, he wasn’t sure which but nothing came out, his jaw unhinged at a rate close to dislocation, Steve had killed someone, killed them for him, and he was grinning about it, Bucky could hear the contentment in his voice. Not only was Steve crazy, he was psychotic and unremorseful.

“Why-why are you shaking?” Steve asked, genuinely worried by the twitching in Bucky’s body.

He shot accusing looks at the fire, they would’ve been funny had Bucky not been verging a break down, he couldn’t stop his body from trembling erratically and Steve tugged him closer, rolling him so he was laying flush on top of Steve’s chest.  
Hands were rubbing soothingly at his back, but all Bucky could feel was the roar in his head, the panic and the sense of helplessness, he had no idea how to handle the situation.

“Breathe Bucky...I’ve got you.”

“Why?” He choked out-

“Why what?”

The heartbeat beneath his ear thumped calmly, unaffected by the words he had spoken, the admission of murder, Bucky’s was fluttering, incomplete beats that were pushing him towards fainting.

“Why do this? Why-why do you want me so bad…”

Steve chuckled, moving a hand to the back of Bucky’s hair and carding his fingers through.  
“I love you...jerk...isn’t it obvious.”

No, Bucky thought with a bubbling laugh, it wasn’t bloody obvious, people in love buy flowers, go to movies and eat take out, they don’t murder and expect the news to be greeted with happiness.

“But why?”  
Bucky’s body sagged at Steve’s drawn out sigh, he didn’t think he would answer, half of him was glad, he imagined it was going to be a crazy response anyway, and he couldn’t handle anymore revelations.

“When I woke up they tried to trick me...made me think it was the 1940’s...I don’t know how long they were planning on keeping that up, but it made me angry, I’d given my all to something and they tried to fool me-

“They were probably worried how you’d handle it.” Bucky said absentmindedly, not knowing what this had to do with him. He was pretty sure his voice was floaty, shock was ebbing away his consciousness.

“Tricked and lied to, used for others gain over and over, then I saw the world, the war done, no need for me….they told me I could have a life now, but how could I, everything I had was gone. Alone...lost...they told me Peggy was still alive...she settled down and got married, did well for herself...I didn’t know whether I wanted to see her, all those years was a blink of an eye for me ....I knew she was old, knew she was ill but a fighter, knew her husband had died years earlier...I was expecting to see her broken, I thought she’d be lonely and sad, and the life would slip away from her in front of my eyes, but she wasn’t, especially when you were around, you kept her going, made sure she was happy till the end.”

Bucky blinked, forcing himself to stay focussed, Steve’s droning voice was at least calming him down, wasn’t making Mr Trackers death any easier to digest but Bucky was relieved he wasn’t verging a cardiac arrest anymore.

“It’s my job, fifty of us work there, we all do the same, you-your infatuated because you happened to see me that day with Pegs, it some attachment thing Steve.”  
Bucky did his best to pull up from Steve’s chest but the vice grip was back and he gave in, slumping forwards to conserve his energy. The fingers drawing pictures on his back were an added comfort and annoyance. Steve wasn’t done with his story so Bucky lay still trying not to side with the feeling of comfort.

“I told you I believe in love at first site, and I felt it when I saw you, you restarted the hollow muscle in my chest, made me long to be with another. I parked outside the home but didn’t have the nerve to go, then there you were, pushing Peggy in a wheelchair. She caught my eye first but then you kept it, good looking, compassionate and when you made her laugh it was like sparks going off in my insides. It was too late for me to have a life with her, but she led me to you. I’m supposed to be with you I could feel it... but then....The avengers came calling and I couldn’t ignore it, I kept putting you on hold, thinking you’d wait for me...

“I’ve been with Brock for two years, before I’d met you, your deluded-

“Doesn’t mean shit, I saw the way you looked at me.”

Another flush was creeping up on Bucky, the first day he’d seen Steve he’d gone bright red, munching a sandwich in the staff area, Steve wandered in lost. He wasn’t expecting Steve bloody Rogers to suddenly just be there in front of him, wearing his tight white shirt and navy jeans that left nothing to the imagination-

“I had to see if you were attracted to me, see if we were compatible.”

Bucky huffed into Steve’s skin, “so that was bull, you weren’t lost.”

“Course I wasn’t, needed to see how you’d react, flushing face, expanding pupils, and the fact you were so tongue tied someone else had to direct me...”

He remembered hurrying over to Brocks apartment that night and telling him, Brock didn’t believe it at first. Steve Rogers visiting someone at the care home, he was the least seen avenger, practically fresh from the ice.  
He blushed every time he caught sight of Steve after, all until that day in the corridor when Steve needed more than a bumbling idiot, it didn’t matter though, Bucky still came across a complete moron when he was trying to be helpful.

“Look-There’s no denying…”Bucky gestured to Steve’s face, to the firm body he was currently resting on, “But this…” he tapped Steve's temple lightly, “scares the hell out of me.”

“You don’t need to be afraid of me, I’ll never do anything to cause you pain.”

“Kidnapping and drugging though, that’s okay is it? Not to mention murder!”

“I didn’t have time to pursue you, this was far quicker and more effective, and I had to make sure you were safe.”  
As Steve said the words he dug his nails harder into Bucky’s back, not enough to hurt but a pleasant pressure that made Bucky’s skin tingle and his body shiver. He hated that his body responded, his mind knew what those hands were capable of, good and bad.

“Prom-promise me Steve, you’ll never hurt Brock...”  
The scratching nails stopped, he rolled Bucky off his chest onto his side. Steve was laying with his back to the fire, front in darkness and Bucky’s expressions on full display. Bucky felt strangely self conscious completely exposed to Steve’s gaze.

“If he doesn’t give me a reason too, I won’t...”

“Wha-what does that mean?”  
Bucky couldn’t see Steve’s features but his hand was gentle against the side of his face again, the back of his fingers lightly brushing.

“As long as he doesn’t hurt you...or touch you, can’t stand people touching my things.”

Bucky pressed his lips together and nodded, “So...If I go along with this, you’ll leave him alone.”

Steve scooted his head closer to Bucky’s, lips pressing on his cheek gently, “exactly...”

Bucky nodded again, eye’s down cast, “fine.”

Without seeing Steve’s lips Bucky knew he was smiling, his joyous tone just confirmed it, “really your mine?”

“I’ll never be yours, this will always be one-sided, a blackmailed relationship...”

Steve huffed, “one day you’ll want me back, come to me when you need me...”

Bucky was shaking his head before Steve had even finished, “not going to happen.”

“Sounds like a challenge, life’s dull without challenges.”

“Look, you’ve already corrupted my body...blackmailed my mind, but I swear to you right now, you’ll never have my heart...I’ll never love you Steve.”

The hand gently caressing him stopped, pulled back as if viciously slapped. Result, Bucky thought, his words had hit home, then Steve climbed over him, laying flush on top and shifting his way down Bucky’s body, kissing as he went.

“Two outta three ain’t bad.” He said with a wicked smile and began mouthing Bucky’s stomach, nipping at the soft flesh and letting it go with an elastic pop, “for now.” Steve added, barely audible to Bucky’s ears.

“Steve-Steve, not now...I don’t, no I can’t-  
After what they’d just talked about Bucky doubted Steve would be able to stir the embers of his body, but sure enough with the mouth over his stomach, teeth gnawing at his hip bones, he felt the growing heat in his core.

“Stop- this is fucked-

He attempted to shove Steve away, but it earned him a growl and both his wrists were pinned by his hips as Steve continued his slow make out with Bucky’s body.

He thought of every unsexy thing he could muster, thought about what they’d just talked about, but even so, his body still reacted, his cock still inflated wanting Steve’s attention. Pressing his lips firmly together, whines and gasps still escaped Bucky’s mouth as he tried to pull his wrists free, his mind may’ve thought Steve was unhinged but his body couldn’t get enough of him, needed him to touch and lick at him. His brain was an endless battle ground, thoughts and desires at war.

 

In the end he slumped defeated, he was getting aroused even though his head was filling with negativity, he didn’t want to have those thoughts while being pleasured, that would make him sick.

As soon as he stopped straining his arms in fight, Steve let his wrists go, instead of pushing Steve away like he wanted to do moments before he slipped his fingers into his hair, clinging on as Steve shifted down again. Steve had the ability to white-out his mind, push the swirling mash of thoughts away so he could focus on the need to feel good, Steve could make him soar with pleasure and he was Bucky’s utter weakness, he couldn’t not enjoy himself.

Bucky flinched at the first touch of Steve’s tongue on his abused hole. The delicate skin was tender, raw, and the gentle licks were both pleasurable and painful, the more Steve flicked his tongue, the more Bucky’s body accepted the sensation, pain faded to a background hum and pleasure took control.

He gripped onto Steve’s head, spewing rubbish from his lips, hoping Steve would take pity and start doing more than tentative licks, but they continued at there maddeningly slow pace. He sneaked a hand from Steve’s hair, gripping himself and sliding up and down his length while giving nothing away. Steve couldn’t see what he was doing, eye’s shut and so focused on teasing the hell out of Bucky’s hole.

Bucky was nearing the edge, the top of a very high drop into bliss, stroking himself faster, he got ready for the moment, shivering at Steve’s licks, hips bucking at his own hand. Every muscle and tendon tensed for the moment....but it didn’t happen. Steve noticed the bordering orgasm and had pulled up, spotting Bucky’s feverish hand and yanked it away.

Bucky albeit sobbed up to Steve who was pinning him to the floor again, wrists above his head. Steve glanced down at their body’s, his own aroused cock rubbed against Bucky’s desperate one, getting slick from the fountain a turned on Bucky’s could create.  
Rolling them both onto there sides, Steve smiled, leaning in and sucking on Bucky’s pulse point, licking down the side of his clammy neck and the dip of his collar bone. His hand found Bucky’s cock and was moving steadily, no way near enough, not as quick and firm as he’d been doing it himself.

On there sides facing each other, Steve sucked marks on any accessible flesh, humming happily as he did, the hand encasing Bucky’s cock was no longer moving, just holding with no firm pressure. Rocking his hips did nothing, Steve loosened the hold and chuckled.

“Not yet...”

Bucky whined into Steve’s chest, hating his desperation but completely unable to hide it, it was pretty obvious with his cock dribbling all over Steve’s hand.

“Touch me...”

The command stunned Bucky out of his dazed state, his hands were clawing at Steve’s shoulders but he knew the body part Steve was referring to, it was brushing his thigh hot and heavy and Bucky was doing his best to ignore it.  
Steve chuckled, taking his fingers away completely and Bucky whined, scrambling for the hand and attempting to put it back on his cock, Steve thrusted forward, pushing himself between Bucky’s legs, the skin immediately got sticky and slicked, the feeling made Bucky moan pathetically. 

“Touch me...” he said again, “and I’ll let you come.”

Bucky was that close anyway, he could finish himself in a few strokes-Steve caught onto his thoughts, tugging Bucky’s hand and pulling it away from himself.

“Nononono...I’ll not let you...until you touch me...”

A needy groan escaped Bucky’s lips and he could feel himself pouting unhappily at the task he’d been set.  
Bucky did as told tentatively, not wanting to hold, but as soon as the hot weight was in his hand he swallowed and shivered at how good it felt. Steve’s skin was smooth, the whole length was silky to touch, the head was wet, Bucky’s fingers felt the moisture and rubbed together, feeling the tackiness.

One light tug and a shudder ran up Steve’s body, the giant chest of muscle hitched under Bucky’s gentle touch and Bucky swallowed, doing it again and watching another wave travel through Steve.

His mind was screaming at him to stop, it was one thing letting Steve touch him, but it was crossing a line doing the same to him, he’d agreed to whatever Steve’s messed up plan was, but he hadn’t forgot about the heart broken Brock, couldn’t forget Mr Trackers death at Steve’s hands-

A flick to his face had Bucky blinking back to awareness.

“Turn that off,” Steve tapped his forehead, “and turn this on...”

He moved Bucky’s hand along his cock shuddering again, before leaning in and kissing Bucky’s neck, up towards his ear. Bucky didn’t want to be doing it, but as soon as Steve’s mouth was against his skin he started to sink back under, swept away by attention and sensation.  
Steve’s hand was back around him once again, moving fast and he increased the tempo, letting his guilty thoughts dissolve away, all he could feel was Steve’s stiff cock, dripping wet under his touch, his own cock twitch excitedly, so close to exploding. It was messy, uncoordinated, full of wet gasps and desperate pants, but it was the hottest hand job he’d ever given, hottest one he’d ever received.

Shoving his face to Steve’s neck, he breathed deep, taking that scent deep with him to hell as he spilled in Steve’s hand. His moan muffled against Steve’s flesh, but he heard the shudder of his voice, wrecked by what Steve could do to him.

Bucky could’ve stopped, he’d finished, Steve’s hard on was his problem, but he couldn’t, he wanted to finish Steve off, wanted to feel his come splatter of his chest and body. Steve was panting by his ear, spurring him on and when he tensed and arched, Bucky pulled back to see the orgasm wash over his face. 

Steve, with his mouth open and eyes rolling high in their sockets was the hottest thing Bucky had ever seen, his own cock dribbled a line more at the visual, conflicting feelings put aside he focussed on the man in front of him, the blissfully pleasure stolen face that was staring at him in awe.

 

The minutes that followed they gazed at each other, so close Bucky could feel the puffs of breath against his lips, see the halo of blue around the pit of a pupil. Steve didn’t smile, he didn’t wear his gloating face, or the smug one Bucky wanted to punch. It was completely open and adoring, and when he leaned forward to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips, he didn’t dodge it, he shut his eyes and excepted it, not returning it but loosening his lips enough for Steve to suck at them, to dip his tongue inside. Hands were in his hair, the mouth was sucking at his lips, the body next to him was half resting on him, not wanting personal space. It was bad that he loved the closeness but he did.

Steve pulled back, and Bucky bit his lip and ran his tongue on the edge, tasting Steve. Angling his face forward, he pushed his mouth to connect with Steve’s in one single peck on the lips.

Steve gasped, there were no more puff’s of air breathed at Bucky’s flesh so he was pretty sure Steve was holding his breath. Cracking an eye open, he looked at the dazzling blue irises, the shocked expression on Steve’s face. Then he sobbed, rolling away as quick as he could.

“No-no-no, don’t start thinking...enjoy this.”  
Steve drew him round, rather than risking kissing him again Bucky shoved his face to Steve’s chest and accepted the arms around his body. Cuddles, post orgasm cuddles, he didn’t even have pre-sex cuddles with Brock and here he was, taking one on offer from a murderer.

He hated that it was nice, being sandwiched by Steve’s arms and body, he hated that the tension in his body drained away into the warm flesh around him, he hated even more that when Steve told him he loved him it made him feel good, cocooned in all things Steve.

He didn’t even register he was crying till Steve pulled back, wiping the pads of his thumbs across Bucky’s cheeks.  
Steve held him till he stopped, Bucky ducked his head down to avoid the stare’s, they weren’t nasty, but somehow he preferred sneering Steve, he was easier to hate, the one being nice to him was like how he imagined Steve Rogers to be, attentive and caring.

 

The conflicting embrace was interrupted by a whine of Bucky’s stomach.

“You hungry?”

Bucky was pretty sure that was a whine of impending vomiting rather than hunger, but Steve was detaching himself and Bucky was happy for that to happen, his brain was compromised by his warming comfort when he was close by.

“Stay here.” Steve said firmly, standing and backing out of the room, it was still dark and Bucky could only make out his hazy shadow as it dissapeared through a door.

There was a spike of adrenaline, a sense of escape, he was sure Steve had cat like hearing, creeping along the cabin would surely draw attention so what was the point, not to mention running naked in unknown territory didn’t seem fun. In the end Bucky stayed where he was, still laying on top of the cosy comforter that held the scent of Steve and there sex making.  
Steve returned wearing a checked shirt and a pair of jean’s, Bucky glared down at his own naked body with a huff.

“What about me?” He croaked.

Steve shrugged, “I like you easy access...”  
Bucky’s angry eyes were met by a grumbling laugh, he didn’t let up and Steve sighed, disappearing back through the door and returning with some sweat pants.

“What about a t-shirt...”

Steve wagged his finger sternly, “this is it...I’m only letting you have them as a reward for not running off...”

Bucky shuddered, accepting the pants and slipping them on quickly.

“Bathrooms there...if you wanna clean yourself up, I for one love you covered in my come...”

Bucky stalked past, stomping into the room Steve suggested and slamming the door.  
No mirror, tiny sink and a shower but no towel. The window was mockingly small and offered no chance of escape, so he climbed into the small cubicle, shivering his way through an ice needle shower to get Steve off his skin. He sat at the bottom of the shower, drilling his forefingers into his temples to stop the constant buzzing of emotions. There wasn’t many things Bucky knew solidly, but he knew Steve was unhinged, knew Steve had murdered a frail man, knew he’d kill again if anyone hurt him, still knowing all that, he had sex with him, allowing his mind to be possessed by the ultimate puppeteer. He hated Steve, but how sane could he claim to be if he knew all that and still had sex with him willingly. It made him sound more crazy than Steve.

 

When Bucky reappeared, shivering with water droplets still all over his body, Steve sighed angrily and hurried over.

“Why the hell didn’t you ask for a towel?”

Teeth chattering Bucky managed a reply, “you wouldn’t give me a fricking T-shirt, I doubted you’d give me a towel.”

Steve pulled him forward, embracing him in one of his steaming hugs, Steve was always hot like a blazing fire and immediately Bucky stopped shivering.  
“Hmmm, I think you just wanted an excuse for me to hug you...only have to ask Bucky...”

Bucky pulled back sharply with a scowl, narrowing his eyes at Steve’s chuckling face.

It was then he turned and got his first proper glimpse of outside in the dull light, trees, tall trees and a hell of a lot of them. A cabin in the woods, so cliché for psychotic murderer Bucky thought with a sour laugh.

“Hey, you can plot your escape plan after you eat...”

Steve was smiling, not the predatory one, in fact in the kitchen with an apron round himself he looked pretty normal.  
Bucky plodded to the huge table, sitting as far away from Steve as he could manage, “what is it?”  
The plate in front of him had something that resembled watery scrambled eggs and a rectangle of something brown, looked almost like a slice of canned dog food-

“Meat ‘n’ eggs....eat up...” Steve said watching, he didn’t lift his own folk until Bucky had started on his own.

It looked disgusting, but he hadn’t eaten in ages, if it was a plate of sprouts he would’ve wolfed it down, he was that hungry, besides he needed energy if he was going to fight off any advances from Steve, and that was a big if.

“Ya know...there’s not rations now...”

Steve smirked, scooping up a folk full and putting it between his lips.

“I know...but, it reminds me, home an all that...I had this the morning before I went in the ice...”  
How bland Bucky thought, stirring the eggs round his plate.  
“Ya know, there’s a great burger place near the tower, you should try-

“It’s a date.” Steve announced.

Bucky frowned, dragging his attention from the tantalising meal and fixing it to Steve, “what?”

“You just asked me out for a meal and I said yes.” Steve replied, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Ummm, that’s not-

“Looking forward to it.” Steve hissed and Bucky immediately snapped his mouth shut, chewing the so called meat far longer than he needed to before swallowing in the silence.

“Your-your not how I thought you’d be...”

Steve frowned, folding his arms over his chest, “n how did you think I’d be?...”

“Like- like the Steve Peggy told me about, the one that dived on a grenade in training to sacrifice himself-  
Bucky stopped short at Steve’s laugh, the snort of arrogance.

“Or maybe I knew it was a dud...”

It was Bucky’s turn to frown, “the flag pole...you-  
“Outsmarted all my fellow troops, wasn’t hard...”

“You got picked for the serum, you were a good guy, that’s why-

Another laugh rattled through Steve’s lips, “good guys and bad guys?”

Bucky chose to ignore Steve’s outburst, carrying on speaking his jumbled thoughts aloud. “They said the serum amplified all your good quality’s, all your morals...you-you were picked for a reason.”

“I was picked because I wanted to be, manipulating people and situations is easy Bucky, I wanted to be more than the embarrassing scrawny man I was and now I am...”

“There’s nothing wrong with being scrawny.”

The word’s wiped the sinister scowl from Steve’s face, Bucky noticed the bob of his throat when he swallowed awkwardly, the way his eyelids blinked in quick succession.  
“You were fine as you were...” Bucky added.

A shadow of an emotion passed across Steve’s face, one Bucky couldn’t pin point.

“If you had met me back then...you would’ve treated me the same as all the others...a punch bag, verbal and physical.”

Bucky shook his head, irritation was making him curl his hands into fists, “I wouldn’t have, ‘m not like that.”

Steve was staring at him, brow marred by wrinkles as he analysed Bucky at the end of the table.  
“You call me monster, that hurts when you say it.”

Bucky sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, tempted to apologise, he stopped himself from doing so. He wasn’t going to suggest Steve’s behaviour had been alright.

“You need...help...you’re mind it’s not right, your sick...” 

“Sickly in body and in mind,” Steve laughed “now it’s just my mind...”

Bucky struggled to find something else to say, before his words tumbled out in a rush “You-you’re a hero, saving America, taking down hydra, you know the difference between right and wrong.”

Steve nodded slowly, pushing his lips together before opening them with a pop, “or maybe I just enjoy killing people who I think deserve it.”

“You-you loved Peggy...”

Steve let out a long sigh, there was defiantly sadness in his face, not acted or scripted but genuinely there, “she could see the darkness, but was willing to be with me anyway, but I crashed into the ice and lost that chance, but now...its okay...I’ve got you.”

“Yeahhh... Steve I-“

Steve stood so abruptly Bucky almost fell off his chair.  
“I need to cut up some fire wood.” He announced, strolling to the sink with his empty plate before plodding the length of the cabin to the front door.

Bucky swallowed at his half finished breakfast not wanting to eat anymore, adrenaline was rising up again and he climbed off his chair, half crouching till he was in the kitchen and could open the drawers in search of knives. He had two choices, except Steve crazy-assed idea of a relationship or fight back.

They were all butter knives, blunt as anything, even if there was a knife he doubted he could use it as a weapon, not because Steve was obviously stronger and faster, but he didn’t want to hurt Steve, wasn’t a murderer wasn’t really a fighter.

Sighing in defeat Bucky continued his stooped search of the cabin, one bedroom with all pillows and comforter ripped off, one tiny bathroom and the open plan kitchen/living space. No ornaments, no sense of character, all bland and undecorated.  
Bucky could see Steve through the window, axe in his hands chopping at logs, the best weapon in the whole damn place and the deranged psycho was the one wielding it. 

“Find what you were looking for?”

Bucky ignored Steve’s taunt, sitting down on the steps of the cabin with the comforter wrapped around his shoulders.  
The sun was up, making its way through gaps in the trees, the forest was thick, mist lingered on the floor and when the sun struck it, it sparkled like glitter.  
Bucky leaned back against the steps, listening to sound of trees swaying, birds chirping and the hypnotic music of Steve chopping the wood effortlessly.

 

The splitting of wood stopped and Bucky snapped his attention over to Steve. The axe was imbedded in a stump so he could remove his sweaty shirt.

It was the first time Bucky had seen Steve’s chest in all it’s godly glory. The sun was angling through the trees, shinning on Steve’s muscles, enhancing the already impressive display of lines and rivets. Bucky swallowed his coiling throat, knowing it was wrong to stare, despite the revelation, the kidnapping and drugging, Bucky could still see Steve was stunning, put all other members of his gender to shame.

It would’ve been easier to handle had Steve been badly scarred, mangled with a sneering, evil expression, but he wasn’t.  
Steve was flawless, he didn’t look like he was evil, he was the devil wearing the skin of a god.

“That should be enough.” Steve announced and Bucky was quick to drag his eyes away, fixing them on the endless miles of trees instead.

Steve collected the logs, pilling them up in his arms and walking his way towards Bucky. He leaned away as Steve stomped passed, shooting a look into the cabin to see Steve arranging the pile.  
The chance for escape his mind supplied, and he staggered up on his feet, crouching as he made his way round the cabin to find the beetle. He circled the whole place and when he got back to the porch steps Steve stood shirtless with his massive arms folded.

“You find it?”

Bucky shrugged, tugging the comforter tighter round himself, “dunno what you’re talking about.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “the car, its hidden, bout half a mile away...”

‘Half a mile’ Bucky mimed back, “you carried me for half a mile?”

“Carried you, you were clinging on pretty damn tight, kept telling me how good it felt to be in my arms.”

Bucky felt his face glow like an infa red bulb, Steve chuckled, taking a step down.

“Said how strong I am...” Another step down, “how hot I am-

“Temperature wise.” Bucky blurted, sure his hair was alight from his burning face, “you’re always hot, your skin...”

“You said I had the best body you’d ever seen, gave the best head you’d ever had, and you wanted to have sex over and over at the cabin...”

Bucky was pretty sure he was about to explode into flames, then shame took over, the shame that he knew subconsciously he had those desires, craved Steve-

“You didn’t really say that stuff, but your face is telling me more than words ever could...”

“Bastard.” Bucky hissed.

Steve burst out laughing, taking the final step towards Bucky and reaching out.  
Bucky didn’t pull away, but he did scrunch his eyes and tense his body, Steve’s hands breeched the comforter, sliding round Bucky’s body and hooking behind his back in a loose embrace.

“Stop trying so hard to hate me...”

“I do hate you.”  
Steve’s hands rubbed easily under the pants waist band, following the curvature of Bucky’s body and squeezing.  
“You like me a little bit too...enjoy me, let yourself go, it's useless to fight it.”  
Steve was close, lips hovering near Bucky’s neck, his hands carried on their massage, finger swiping close to the rosette of Bucky’s hole and gently pushing.

Bucky winced still tender from the mad humping in the car. Steve immediately retracted his hands and pulled away, blue eyes searching Bucky face, he seemed to find the answer in Bucky’s pained grimace, taking a step back.

“We need to give that a rest, don’t want to break my new toy, but you could make yourself useful and grab some logs...”

Bucky huffed, stomping his way back to the steps and dropping down, “don’t wanna be useful.”  
Steve only smiled in reply, a fond grin that had Bucky narrowing his eyes.

“You gunna try running if I go sort the fire?”

Bucky shook his head, but he was never any good at lying. Then he analysed the endless army of trees and his hope sunk, where the hell would he even start.

Steve sighed, “Tell ya what, I’ll give you a head start, twenty minutes.”

The smug expression on Steve’s face made Bucky pissed, Steve really believed he wouldn’t run, wouldn’t try to get away. Bucky sneered, thinking Steve was far too comfortable, believing he had tamed him, backed him into submission.

“Fine, no looking though...” He snapped, flicking his chin out as he did so.  
Bucky chuckled at Steve surprised expression, he hadn’t been expecting Bucky to take him on up on the little agreement. It felt strangely good to stun Steve, as well as proving to himself he wasn’t under the maniacs control completely. He might have agreed to their messed up relationship, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for Steve.

“I’ll sort the fire, and when I’m done, I’ll come for you.”

A shiver rattled through Bucky’s frame, he wished it was fear, but it wasn’t, it was a shot of excitement flowing in his system at their little game, and when he set off into the woods, his heart thumped hard, a smile twitched his lips, he’d never felt so exhilarated at the chase, the thrill of Steve trying to catch him

The need to escape Steve to prove he could, the thought of his shocked face if Bucky did indeed give him the slip, at some point when he was running away his complex feelings and emotions faded to nothing, and he felt alive, wanting Steve to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May take a lil longer to update (providing yall want more) this chapter nearly killed me to get it out on time, its a work in progress an haven't even started part 6 :O
> 
> Hope your enjoying this twisted fic....<3


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buckys a bit of a shit and Steve knows just what to do with him....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are painfully my own.  
> Massive love for comments and kudos, they really keep me motivated to write some more.
> 
> I wrote, re-wrote, changed and deleted everything, then wrote it again. Hope you like it, this chapter was a pain in the ass (no pun intended) but hopefully you'll enjoy it, I can now focus on the next part :)

Bucky took off running, he was no super soldier, but that didn’t mean he was unfit; he ran regularly, could easily keep a good pace up for miles, except this route was harder, he had no idea where he was going and the further he went the thicker the foliage got, the more it tried to cling on to his feet and trip him up. 

The trees were packed tighter together and the lack of distance between each made Bucky disorientated, made him feel trapped. He stopped at one of the trees, not able to put his arms out in any direction without hitting another.

The ground was slippery, thick mud clogged between his toes, he cursed when he stepped on a few hidden rocks, sharply digging into his bare feet. It only got more swampy, more rocky and more densely packed with trees.

“Fuck!” Bucky hissed, banging his forehead on the nearest trunk, he didn’t know where he was, the flora seemed to be on Steve’s side keeping him near the cabin with the big bad wolf. The thought of being little red riding hood made him giggle with hysteria, his crazed laugh had him snapping to attention.  
Bucky wondered whether that was Steve’s plan all along, letting him run so he’d only have to return with his tail between his legs, part crazed.

He wasn’t going to be so easily controlled, Bucky eyed the tree he was resting against, seeing it disappear into the clouds. A lighting bulb moment pinged and he smiled. One way or another, he was getting away from Steve, just to prove he could. The thought had a brash smile spreading his lips.

 

He climbed, the first few branches were skinny and creaked under Bucky’s weight, they bent, close to snapping but Bucky bit his lip and continued, determined to get to where he intended.

He released a bark of triumphant when he could reach some thicker branches to haul himself up. Bucky was sure the muscles of his biceps was pulling off the bone with his efforts, but eventually he got to a huge thick branch able to sit on, his vision warped when he peeked over at the ground, far higher than he thought.  
Bucky leaned back against the massive trunk, legs dangling either side of the branch and waited, inwardly grinning at his cleverness. 

Up a tree with his heart thumping with anticipation, his breathing ragged with his hand clamping over his mouth, he wasn’t scared or frightened, he didn’t think about Steve being a psycho or a murder, he let the childish excitement engulf him, grinning like an idiot in his crafty hiding place. 

He was accidentally playing a game of hide and seek, and although he shouldn’t of felt giddy, he did, hoping to see a glimpse of Steve and have outsmarted the super soldier. Bucky decided that maybe Steve wasn’t the wolf after all, but the woodcutter, that was the only way he was going to get him down the tree...

 

Bucky looked out at the rows of trees, squinting when he thought he saw a shadow, something moving and concealing itself down below. It was in front of him, so couldn’t be Steve but then again he wasn’t sure which way he was facing anymore, he was pretty sure he had walked a few circles in his confusion. The shadow didn’t re-appear, so Bucky put it down to his adrenaline clogged mind playing tricks on him, adding to the excitement of being caught. He was hard, obviously so, but at least up in a tree Steve wouldn’t be able to tell, it was his little secret that it was turning him on being hunted by a monster.

Bucky didn’t have a clock, had no idea how long he’d been hiding when he heard the stomp of boots and the snap of twigs underfoot.  
He peeked through the leaves, seeing Steve casually walking his exact trail through the trees, head level and scanning straight ahead. 

Bucky clamped his hand over his lips hard when a session of nervous laughter was in danger of escaping.  
Steve kept going, right under Bucky’s tree, not glancing up once. He didn’t go too far, having apparently lost Bucky’s trail. He walked ten meters to his left before tracking back and going right.  
The irritated expression on Steve’s face morphed to one of worry as he spun in circles, eyes big and bulging. 

 

At first watching the panic rising in Steve was amusing, a sense of Karma, Steve was clearly uncomfortable having a situation taken out of his hands. He bounced off the trees as he searched for a route, shaking hands ruffled his hair, Bucky wasn’t certain from the distance but he was sure when Steve turned his direction he could see Steve’s eyes had pinked, appeared puffy and watery. He was that upset over possibly losing Bucky. It was a shock that the realisation pained Bucky, made his stomach drop to his toes. Steve turned his back on Bucky’s tree, scanning the area where Bucky had spotted the shadow, he went very still, poised.

“Bucky?” he gasped, it was the tone that did it, the worried one, the voice he used when he whispered he was all alone at the funeral, it made Bucky’s gut twist sharply, an ache settle in his chest that he couldn’t ignore. He didn’t dwell on why, but he had to sooth Steve’s distress.

“Oi cap, over here, didn’t enhance your eyesight apparently.” Steve whirled around from analysing the woods and immediately snapped his attention to the tall tree, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Up here brain box...”

The relief that flooded Steve’s face had Bucky’s own heart faltering, no one had looked at him like that, as if he was the sun and the moon all rolled into one. It was addictive, being the soul focus of Steve, even though he was unhinged and quite possibly a lunatic. The way he watched Bucky though, made a sensation close to butterfly’s simmer in his chest, and that was totally wrong, uncomfortable, unwanted and yet it persisted much to Bucky’s irritation.

Steve stumbled his way through the maze of trees locking eyes with Bucky. Bucky smirked and the adoring gaze Steve wore vanished, got feral when Bucky threw some moss his way.

“You little shit...you’ve been watching all this time!”

Bucky nodded patronisingly, enraged Steve was far easier to get along with, “I thought you were so clever hey, outsmarted all your fellow troops...”

“You’ve had your fun, get down.”  
Asshole Steve was back and Bucky inwardly sighed in relief, it was easier to hate him when he was being an unreasonable git.  
“I’m comfy here thanks...”

Steve grit his teeth and growled, the vibrating rumble had all of Bucky’s skin tingling, hairs standing on end. He was nervous, giddy, being a mischievous bastard and it had never felt so good to annoy someone. A turn on, he’d never been turned on enraging someone, didn’t know that was a thing until that very moment.

A giddy laugh broke through Bucky’s lips and he was forced to bang his chest not to choked on it, Steve wasn’t impressed, glaring up at the tree in annoyance. The look could send puppies and kittens scurrying in fear, but the effect on Bucky was a chill down his body, ending with a jolt in his cock.

“Did I get you worried there Steve...”he teased, watching as Steve’s eyes darted and his lips thinned in a line.

“Yes, worried you’d done something stupid.” He hissed, bringing his hand up to the first flimsy branch and giving it a questioning tug.

“Come on Cap, see what you’ve got...”

Steve climbed cautiously, clearly out of his depth, Bucky decided to help speed up the inevitable and threw some moss at Steve face, trying to make him loss composure and fall.

“I’ve been chilling up here, watching you stumbled around like a drunk.”  
A lump of moss hit Steve right in the eye and his gripping hands slipped. Steve landed on his ass with a squelch, growling up at Bucky who couldn’t contain his childish cackling.

“Not so super, hey soldier.”

“Come down!” Steve demanded, staggering to his feet.

Bucky blew a raspberry down at him, “make me...”

The Steve attacking the tree was fierce, eyes black pits and jaw set in a persistent scowl, Bucky wasn’t afraid of the beast stalking him, his stomach flipped with excitement, nervous excitement, but his heart was thundering, a unmovable smile twitched his lips, made him giggle embarrassingly.  
He felt alive, numb to thoughts and memory’s, he was the prey up the tree and Steve was the predator trying to catch him, making an ass out of himself as he did so.

“Come on...you’re the first avenger right? Hydra shudda just hid up trees.”

“I smashed them down with the shield.”  
Steve roared the words, puffing his chest out angrily.

Bucky pouted his lips, “aww, super soldier not so tough without his ickle shield...”

Steve flashed his teeth, scrunched his nose up and launched himself at the tree with enough force for Bucky to almost fall, he scrambled for the safety of the trunk and held tight. Steve looked like he wanted to eat him, splay him open and devour him, Bucky suddenly understood that stupid saying, the closer you are to death the more alive you feel. Steve looked like he wanted to kill him, and that was the most exhilarating feeling ever.

His hard on felt like it had been up for hours, and Steve looking at him like that had a wet patch growing on the grey sweat pants, he was relieved Steve couldn’t see the mark of his desperation, he was trying to ignore it himself...

 

Steve got further, a few meters off the ground then his weight became too much for the skinnier branches, before he could reach for a more stable branch, the feeble ones creaked and broke and he was hurtling towards the ground.

He hit the earth with another wet smack and Bucky laughed again, in fact his cheeks ached and his sides pinched from laughing so much. Not so tough he thought to himself smugly.

“Aww come on, Captain America...”

Bucky’s chuckle calmed and he frowned down at the unmoving figure on the ground, Steve faces was no longer cracked with determined lines but completely relaxed with his eyes closed.

“Steve...?”  
Nothing, not a twitch, Bucky threw some more moss down just to be sure, but the green clump settled on Steve’s chest and wasn’t wiped away. From up the tree Bucky could see a trickle of red creep from the corner of Steve’s mouth-

“Shit.” Bucky hissed to himself, scrambling for the route down, he started to descend, darting looks to the man on the ground, expecting him to move. To suddenly launch up and reach for him.

The skinny branches were gone, and Bucky did his best to grip onto the bark of the tree to shimmy down, he slipped, banging his chin and scrapping it against the tree on the way to the ground.  
The nip of pain was secondary to the unconscious man in the mud. It was the perfect time to escape, run back to the cabin or find the car but they were the furthest thoughts from Bucky’s mind.

He gripped on to Steve’s face, shaking it gently, “Steve...hey Steve?”

Bucky hovered his ear over Steve lips, feeling the small puffs of air, just in case his mind was tricking him he pressed his ear to Steve’s chest, listening to the powerful thump of his heart.

Suddenly Steve moved, arms that had been laying flat at his sides capturing Bucky in a trap.  
“Now who’s the clever one....”  
Steve tugged Bucky to his chest before rolling him over into the mud, the sludgy water was cold on Bucky’s bare back, making him shiver and jerk upwards.

“Bastard! Thought you were hurt!”

Steve smiled, inches away from Bucky’s face, he licked at the trail of blood that had leaked from the corner of his mouth.  
“Bit my tongue...” Steve announced proudly.

Bucky just glared at him like he’d grown another head, “on purpose?”

Steve nodded, sneering down at Bucky in triumphant.

“You’re insane-

“Worked didn’t it...got you down here pretty quick.”

“I was gunna run-

Steve popped his lips open in amusement, “nah you weren’t.”

“Was.”

“You were worried about me, climbed down to help me. Too easy...” The words trailed off and Steve frowned at the sky in wonder.

Bucky wasn’t sure whether that was meant for his ears or whether Steve was just spewing his thoughts. Bucky sunk back into the mud, doing his best not to think about where it was gluing in his hair. He’d been waiting for what felt like hours hours for Steve and finally he had been caught, Steve was on him, engulfing him and pinning him beneath his powerful body. Bucky’s softened cock was gaining firmness again, momentarily losing its heat when he thought Steve was actually injured. Steve was brushing his cheek against Bucky’s, and he couldn’t help but turn into it, letting Steve nuzzle at him. Without him realising he had started moving his hips, up into Steve’s body. Steve was also hard, it was more difficult to tell with the jeans but Bucky could feel the bulge pressing to his, Steve’s hips were circling and Bucky did his best to bite back a moan but failed miserable. It wouldn’t take much for him to come in his pants, gentle rutting against Steve was steadily making that a reality.

Steve’s triumphant smile soured the longer he looked down at Bucky, hips no longer slow dancing back.

“What is it?” Bucky asked, trying not to be pissed that things had stopped.

Steve leaned in an lay a gentle kiss to his chin, Bucky stiffened, still not happy with that kind of intimacy, it was too tender, too sweet. He didn’t want that, did he? He didn’t know and with his brain power compromised he didn’t think on it.

Bucky felt the stinging graze on his chin, it prickled when he wiped at it, “the tree, “ he said for an explanation, “I slipped when I tried to get down.”

Steve glanced back at the tree with fury in his eyes, Bucky was sure Steve wanted to rain a hail of punches to punish it.

“Its a tree, don’t go all bad ass on it, wasn’t its fault...”

Steve was still tense above him, snorting breaths through his nose. Bucky was pretty pissed with the tree too, it was stopping things from progressing, had robbed Steve’s attention from him.  
A niggling voice of reason tried to be heard in his mind but he blanked it out, not wanting the dam of guilt to consume him.

“What you gunna do, punch the tree for me?” Bucky sighed.

Steve flashed his dark eyes back to Bucky’s, stealing his breath with a single look, “for you I’d burn every one of them down.” He hissed low near Bucky’s ear. Bucky couldn’t stop the shiver that rattled his frame, or the way his cock jumped up replenished. 

“Just a graze...” Bucky said, hoping it would sooth Steve’s anger.

Eventually Steve forgave the tree, getting to his feet and brushing off his hands.  
Disappointment stung sharply, Bucky had wanted...he tried not to think about what he wanted, tried to ignore his heavy member against his leg, he shouldn’t of been wanting anything from Steve, his body and mind were running riot with sexual thoughts.  
He was only wearing sweatpants and Steve watched his obvious excitement and smiled, nudging it with his foot.

“Feeling neglected hey Buck?”

“Shuddup...”

“Only have to ask...”

Bucky cursed the flutter of his heart, the bubbling of arousal. His throat began to tickle with a plea but he shut it down, forcing his attention away. He would not ask Steve, that wasn’t how this messed up situation worked...

Steve stilled, the smile fell from his lips as he studied the trees before them, he placed a foot on Bucky’s chest to keep him in place on the floor.

“What the hell!”  
Try as he might Bucky couldn’t remove the weight pressing him to the mud, Steve ignored Bucky’s protest, not happy with the woods, still having issues with the aggressive trees...  
Bucky punched him in the knee and that got Steve’s attention.

“We need to clean up your neck...” Steve muttered, back in the present.

Bucky cursed, shoving at the limb pinning him, “would if you get offa me!”

Bucky’s skin was dripping with stinking mud, the water soaking the earth and leaves had turned stagnant.  
“Yuck!”

“That’s what you get for trying to be clever...”

Bucky did his best to wipe off the sticky mud, but all he did was run it round him body so he looked like some swamp monster, some reeking, mucky creature that had crawled from the ground.  
“Jesus! I stink...”

Steve leaned in close, breathing deeply in Bucky’s hair, “hmmm good, you always smell good.”

Bucky went to push his muck covered hand in Steve’s face but it was easily caught, and twisted behind his back.  
“Ow ow ow-”

“You gunna quit being a punk?”

Bucky nodded at the floor, forced into a bow with Steve holding his arm in that position.

“Right then, lets get back and clean you up... Only have to ask an I’ll sort your other problem too...”

Steve walked passed him, heading back towards the cabin and Bucky followed begrudgingly. He stayed a pace behind as they plodded back in silence. As they trudged the route his mind began to run again, his thoughts became infested with Brock, with Mr Tracker, with Steve drugging and kidnapping him. All the hurt Steve had caused and yet Bucky still wanted him, got excitement out of being with him, pushing against his limits. What did that make him? It made him wrong, not a good person. Steve was crazy, Bucky was sure of it, but apparently he’d always been crazy and manipulative, and then there was Bucky, he always thought he was a nice guy, had morals, Steve was smashing them to bits making him feel he was a lie, a fraud.

 

Bucky bent down to find a stick, not to stake Steve in the back, or conceal in his sweat pants in case he launched another escape attempt, but to annoy the hell out of Steve on the way. Everything was easier when he was distracted, when he was pushing Steve’s buttons and all that could flow in his head space was anticipation and adrenaline, no room for anything or anyone else.

 

Steve could rip him in two, could literally crush his neck with his forefinger and thumb, Bucky was pretty sure Steve could kill him with a well aimed flick to his temple  
Steve was dangerous, an uncaged lion, and Bucky couldn’t help but prod at him, torment him, and he knew Steve would get his own back eventually, but there was always the small bubble of messed up hope, that if Bucky pushed Steve too far, he’d end up at his mercy, Steve would take him and his brain would no longer ache from the mash of thoughts, there would be nothing, bliss, for a few minutes at least, no confusion, no guilt, just pleasure and happiness.  
Bucky yanked his head away from those fantasy’s and selected a stick, it was long, flexible and thin, and easy to hide behind his back.

Steve was moving skilfully through the vines and branches, even they seemed to retreat out of his way to allow him to pass, they snapped back painfully when Bucky tried to follow, and he noted Steve’s badly concealed laugh each time he hissed an ouch.

He held his breath when he first pushed the stick into Steve’s shoulder, not too firmly, he didn’t want to make him suspicious, not when they had a long trek back and Bucky was desperate to distract himself for as long as possible. The most messed up kind of foreplay.  
Steve absentmindedly batted his hand to his shoulder, slapping the sensation away, not thinking anything of it.  
Bucky sucked his top lip into his mouth to stop his laugh, the walk back was going to be nothing if not entertaining he thought to himself smugly...

 

He proceeded to prod Steve with the stick, each time he slapped at his neck or shoulder to remove the irritating pressure, Bucky bit his lip not to laugh. Bucky couldn’t believe he was getting away with it for so long, his gut was flipping at the thrill of being found out, his face twitched erratically, not letting any wayward laughs escape. Annoying Steve and the excitement that came with it was the thought-blanking experience Bucky craved, he felt like a shitty kid, playing a prank on his pissed teacher.

In the end Steve spun on him with a growl and Bucky schooled his face into bored, emotionless, heart ready to explode, but face stone.  
“What is it?”

Steve narrowed his eyes, pulling back his lips and showing his teeth, “I know it’s you-

“Look Steve,” Bucky grumbled, “I’m tired, I just want to get back, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bucky watched as Steve swallowed uncomfortably, “you’re not, you’re not doing that?”

“What? I’m two meters behind ya Steve, what am I supposedly doing?”

Steve looked at the gap between them, brow scrunched in confusion. The look of vulnerability had Bucky’s chest feeling heavy, this time he didn’t give into the pull and carried on with his game.

“Well?” He groaned in faux annoyance,

“Prodding me...?”

Bucky shot a look over his shoulder, mainly to hide his brattish smile, “maybe, it was the mud, a bug or something...a leech maybe...”  
There was a ruffle of material as Steve tugged his t-shirt over his head, throwing it into the trees, he turned and Bucky was comforted with his heaving shoulders, defined as ever-

“Anything?”

“Hmm what?”

Steve rolled his eyes, patting the top of his shoulders so Bucky would check his back.

“Oh god! Yeah-yeah a leech-

Steve jumped a foot in the air, trying to wipe at his back frantically, “It off, it off?”

Bucky struggled not to laugh, before giving in and unleashing a fit of it, “Trees...and leeches....that’s how you defeat captain America...”

“Shut your mouth and get it off!”

“’kay, okay, I’ll get it, ya big girl...”  
Steve was still shifting foot to foot when Bucky approached, he growled with impatience.  
“Get on with it!”

“You think it’ll go all super-leech after sucking your blood...Maybe it will go crazy and start kidnapping other leeches too...”  
Bucky slapped Steve as hard as he could on the shoulder getting the invisible bug, his own had stung but Steve didn’t move, didn’t really acknowledge the hit which only infuriated Bucky.

“It gone...?”

“Not yet.” Bucky mumbled then struck Steve on the ass as hard as he could, that, Steve did feel, spinning round with round eyes.

“All gone...” Bucky announced, doing his best innocent expression.

“Leech liked to suck my ass did it?”

Bucky just shrugged, cleared his throat then coughed all while Steve glared at him with wild eyes.  
“Apparently so....” Bucky said finally, but Steve wasn’t subdued.

“Would you like that Buck?”

“Hmm?”

Steve smirked, moving a step closer, “would you like to be like the leech? Sucking my ass?”

Bucky felt his face flame, his mouth dried as he struggled for something to say as it hung loose.

“Would you tease me open Buck, get me ready for you.”  
Bucky’s whole mind swam with that visual, it was only because he was leaning against a tree he didn’t pool to the ground at Steve’s feet.

“No ones done that to me ya know, you’d be the first and last to rim me.”

Without realising he was doing it, his tongue had began rubbing at the roof of his mouth, as if a substitute for what Steve was suggesting. Brock had never switched with him, wouldn’t allow his face near that part of his anatomy, and here Steve was, offering it, temping Bucky with his perfect body.

“No.” Bucky managed to croak, shaking his head with his eyes firmly closed, he couldn’t give in to those wants, Steve should have repulsed him, he shouldn’t of wanted to touch and taste as badly as he did.

“Maybe I’ll pin you to the floor, thigh either side of your head...give you no option but to eat me out..”

Bucky squeaked, actually squeaked like a mouse and it was mortifying, he could feel the warmth in his cheeks, the furious flush of arousal. 

Steve was closing in on him, warm hands gripping on to Bucky’s waist and sliding round. Bucky didn’t fight off the intense shiver of electricity, the buzz of having Steve touch him, but then his wrist was snagged, and skilful pressure was applied in the right area so he dropped what he was holding. The stick fell near silently to the ground, but Steve had seen it, had released Bucky and dropped down to pick it up.

“You crave my attention that badly?”

Bucky struggled to focus his eyes, watching with the ache in his chest increasing as Steve moved away. Again his sweat pants were tented, obvious for Steve to see and gaze at happily. Again his body was disappointed with the lack of....anything...everything.

“See you want me, your pursuing me without even realising.”

Bucky was overly aware he wanted Steve, was offering himself like a sacrifice to a beast, but he wasn’t pursuing, just letting Steve know he was there for the taking, but he was defiantly not pursuing...

“Just...ask me...” Steve purred, low against Bucky’s neck that instantly tightened with pleasant shivers.

“I don’t want you!” Bucky sulked breathlessly, shoulder barging his way past Steve. Stupid Steve who could some how read him like a book, he thought bitterly.

“Is it easier like that, annoy me so bad that I have to have you? Is it easier having sex with me when I’m rough? Less guilt?”  
Bucky ignored every one of Steve’s leery questions, trying to speed up to get away.

“You want me to have you?”

“Sex, it’s just sex.” Bucky snapped over his shoulder, tripping over every single twig on the entire planet, Steve just chuckled behind, always at his back, no matter how hard he tried to steamroll forward.

“Best sex you’ve had, has to be if you’re horny for more...”

“Shut up.” Bucky hissed back.

“I know it’s true...you’ve told me several times...Poor Brock hey, guy couldn’t satisfy you at all.”

Bucky swung for him with a snarl, his punch was easily caught and held in a firm hold.  
“I don’t want a monster.” Bucky hissed.

A flash of hurt registered in Steve’s face, and Bucky hated it, never wanted to see that again, no matter what Steve had done. It was physically painful for himself to see that hurt, to know he caused it. His brain ached trying to work out why he gave a shit

“I think you want the monster, and I’ll give him to you...”

Steve shoved him towards a trunk, his chest collided with the living wall, stealing his breath and making his diaphragm flex. There was pressure around his wrist, drawing his arm round the tree. Before his mind could register his other wrist was snagged in a grip and tugged forward so he hit the tree again.

A jingle and then a click followed, Steve peeked round from the other side of the tree with a smile.  
Bucky did his best to pull his arms back, but they were stuck, secured together around the tree. It was a wide enough trunk for his arms to be at full stretch, no leverage to push and pull, not that it would’ve done him any good. He was stuck hugging the tree, face brushing the rough bark. Bucky idly wondered how Steve seemed to just sprout handcuffs from no where.

“What the hell Steve!”

Steve moved from his line of sight and Bucky shivered, suddenly nervous not being able to see what the pissed man was doing  
Steve yanked Bucky’s sweat pants down, till they bunched at Bucky’s ankles, Bucky ground his hips into the tree wanting to shield his erection from Steve, he didn’t want him knowing he was still hard despite the rough treatment, or because of it , he wasn’t sure anymore...

There was a prod in his shoulder, Bucky tilted his head back enough to see a slither of the stick. Steve was casually prodding at his body like he was meat on a barbeque. 

“Ass sucking leeches hey...Being a brat, now lying.”

“I’m not lying.” Bucky snapped. Steve moved closer, squishing Bucky against the bark painfully, chest to Bucky’s mud covered back. He couldn’t breathe, got more light headed the longer Steve leaned on him.

Steve sighed, pushing off from Bucky’s back. The air that rushed back into his lungs was cool and he shivered. Shivering more without Steve’s warm weight settling on him, being able to draw in air again had his brain fuzzing, almost euphoric.  


“Why didn’t you just ask me? You want me, you need to ask...”

“Dunno what you’re on about.” Bucky husked back.  
Even without seeing Steve, Bucky knew he was rolling his eyes, his denials were warring thin even to his own ears.

“Relationships are all about communication.” Steve muttered.

“I say no, you do it anyway...”Bucky replied with a snort.

 

There was no warning from Steve, a small whistle in the air and then Bucky jerked forward at the whip to his ass. On a scale of pain, it wasn’t high, it was more the shock of it that had Bucky gasping and clenching up.

“Shiiiit.” He moaned into the bark, hoping Steve didn’t hear.

“Good?”  
He didn’t answer, didn’t know what to answer, Steve was...striking him...

“Gotta stop lying to me Buck...and yourself...”

There were fingertips tracking the red mark gently, the slight contact made Bucky shudder again, sink his teeth into his bottom lip not to whine. Bucky registered the whistle in the air, then his other cheek was stinging raw.

“Let me go.” he managed, even though he didn’t mean it. It was a constant fight between what he wanted and what was right. Even Bucky rolled his eyes at how weak it sounded, how needy his voice had gotten from two strike to his ass. Another crack in the air, a staggered moan and a bead of leaking pre-come.

“No mooore..”

“Yes, more. You want more.” Steve grumbled, moving in close and nipping at Bucky’s earlobe while his furnace flesh covered Bucky’s exposed body, all to soon the warmth to his spine was gone, and another pain had his hips grounding into the tree.

Steve touched the new mark gently, running the pad of his thumb over the raised mark.  
“All this running off and hiding, all you have to do is ask...”

Bucky bent his head back, not enough to be able to see Steve, but so he’d defiantly be heard, “Fuck you...”

Steve backed off with a smirk, “yeah, we can do that...not right now but soon.” 

Bucky’ frowned in confusion, he hadn’t asked a question, that wasn’t what he meant.

Then the bendy twig came at him faster, in quick succession and Bucky was gasping, whole lower body tensed from the burn. He zoned out, felt almost detached from his body, only able to moan and rock his hips gently. The noises he was making didn’t sound like him any more, they were alien and needy.

It wasn’t a finger tip tracing the mark, the sensation was softer, warm, Bucky realised Steve was licking along the red welts, making them sting and tingle with sensitivity. Steve followed each one of them with unwavering focus, and the pain subsided, leaving a warm trail of moisture. Steve blew at the marks and Bucky shivered again, arms straining against the tree as he released a long moan. It all felt too much, he was in unchartered territory, pain and pleasure in equal measure.

Both of his cheeks were gripped, pried apart even though he did his best to clench them together. One stripe of a lick and Bucky was shuddering, arms trembling in their containment.

Another swipe and he whined, muffling his mouth with the tree in front of him.

Then Steve’s tongue was fucking into him, no gentle build up but straight in, swirling and sloshing, Bucky was thankful for the biting cuffs on his wrists, without them he would’ve collapsed to the floor. His arms were vibrating wildly, over working in their stretch, and he let out another wobbling groan.

He couldn’t be any closer to the tree, a solid wall in front of him allowed Steve to push as deep as he wanted, to go to town on his hole without him squirming away. He was lapping and sucking the rim and the sound’s making there way to Bucky’s ears were downright dirty, driving him insane, he gave in, no longer forcing his body into the tree but relaxing back, letting Steve have more, loosening his body for the probing tongue.

Words were too difficult for his fucked out brain, so instead he moaned and groaned, loud enough to disturb a nest of birds a few trees away, they clucked wildly and flew away terrified. He could understand why, it sounded more like he was being murdered than pleasured.

The front of his body was rubbing against the tree, his nipples snagged on bumps in the bark, but the slight pain only added to the experience, everything hurt apart from where Steve was caressing him, and that in turn made the sensations even more intense.  
Bucky tried to ignore the fact he was humping a fucking tree, trying to ease the ache in his cock. Tree bark wasn’t the best material to try to get off against, it hurt, but the pain didn’t deflate his hard on, didn’t stop pre-come from leaking out.  
Steve warmth encased his back again, one hand pushed at his lower back, forced him impossibly closer to the trunk, the other hand gripped Bucky’s hair, forcing his head back so he could suck marks into the skin of his throat, sucking the word mine into Bucky’s pale flesh.

The hand at his back, slid round and for a second Bucky thought he was going to touch his cock, Bucky forgot to breathe waiting, but instead Steve pushed on his abdomen, making his feet slide back so bend his back out, giving Steve better access. Steve kissed sloppily at Bucky’s shoulders, not caring that they were caked in mud.

“’m gunna have you now...”

They fucked like animals, incoherent, only managing grunts and moans for communication, they were both chasing their own release. Steve forcefully rutting in his ass, each slap of his hips to Bucky had him lifted against the tree, skin pinching against the bark. Bucky’s nipple’s had got diamond hard as they brushed the tree, sensitive enough that he wondered if they were bleeding, or on fire..  
Steve finished first, biting into Bucky’s shoulder hard enough to break the skin, he thrusted deeper, slowing as he emptied himself.

Bucky was still trying to rut against the tree fast, it wasn’t the most comfortable way to get off, he was sure he would be sore in the morning but he was so close, needed that moment of ecstasy when it had built up throughout the day.  
Steve gripped onto his hips, pulling him away from the trunk so he could no longer seek his orgasm that way. He sobbed, trying to get back to the position he was in but fighting against Steve was no use, he was effortlessly holding Bucky, keeping him still.  
Steve shushed him and Bucky spluttered a sob, eyes stinging at being denied his own release.

“Only have to ask me...”

Bucky whined, not understanding what Steve meant in his frustrated torture, then he understood, the small voice in his head that told him not to ask, to hate Steve was bypassed and he albeit cried for Steve to let him come.  
“Ask me.” Steve teased, still not releasing Bucky’s hips so he could continue to grind. ”Didn’t quite hear ya..”

“Let me come Steve!” He yelled it loud enough to tug his vocal cords, to sore his throat.

Steve grumbled happily rewarding Bucky with a sloppy kiss to his temple, sliding his hands against Bucky’s hip as he reached between his legs.

The feel of Steve’s hand was almost heavenly, not moving, just holding him, it was almost too much, and he started to drift, almost passing out from the shocking contrast to the tree.

Warm and soft, not slicing him up like the tree had been doing. He almost came from that one hold. Balancing on a tightrope between ecstasy and fainting. He prayed to god, he wouldn’t do the latter.

Steve swiped the end of his cock with his thumb, circling the leaking beads back into the flesh, Bucky moaned, low and wreaked. Steve didn’t have to do much, Bucky had been walking the line for what felt like hours and all it took was a little push, or two tugs from Steve’s hand.

He came, with a silent cry facing above, darkness invade his vision, he sunk under an ocean of weight, not fearful, but completely relaxed and blissed out, that was the feeling he had been chasing for literally hours. Steve had him, had wrapped himself around him like a heated blanket.

Bucky couldn’t recall the rest of the walk back, he knew Steve had carried him, over his shoulder like he was some animal carcass he had hunted. Steve stomped through the cabin, straight into the bathroom, still holding Bucky like a slab of meat.  
The shower was on the small side with just one of them, but with both of them, they could barley move, that was the reason Bucky chose in his head to justify leaning against Steve like he was. The marks on his ass stung, his chest and nipples felt raw and there were aching throbs in his neck and shoulder where Steve had sucked and bit at him. He felt owned, and it was a surprisingly nice feeling, not that he was going to let Steve know that.

Bucky couldn’t lift his arms, was pretty sure he had pulled every muscle in them and washing his body was too difficult, it was far easier to let Steve do it, run his hands over his skin and rid him of the dirt. In his semi-conscious state he was aware he was letting out small sounds of contentment, he couldn’t physically stop it, and each time he made a sound Steve chuckled, not the mocking, or smug, but a fond laugh, that did things to the butterfly in Bucky’s insides.  
When Steve started on his hair, he full on moaned into Steve’s collar bone, head tilting to follow the scratching fingers.

“Think I’ve found your weakness...”

Bucky breathed a singular laugh into Steve’s chest, “Steve was his weakness. His hugs, his hands, his mouth, his cock...”

Steve laughed, squeezing Bucky tight for a moment, that was when Bucky realised he’d spoken aloud. So much for keeping those thoughts repressed he thought bitterly, he just said them aloud...

Bucky pulled back and gazed at Steve wanting to be annoyed, or disgusted, but he was faced with huge blue eyes and a smile of adoration. He hated when Steve looked at him like that, as if he was special and a rare treasure, all Bucky wanted to do was kiss him when he looked like that. When he wore that expression, push his soft lips to Steve’s and taste him.

“Why don’t you then?”  
Again Bucky frowned, before realising he had spoken his thoughts, had just told Steve he really wanted to kiss him-

“Kiss me.” Steve whispered.  
Bucky leaned in a fraction, zoning in on Steve’s stupidly perfect mouth, at the last second he ducked down and put his forehead to Steve’s chest.  
Somehow kissing Steve seemed more intimate than the other stuff they’d done. He was convinced there would be no going back once he’d kissed Steve. Some how, in his messed up thoughts, he could except Steve having him, would deny he wanted it when they both knew he did, but to actually kiss Steve, to touch him and taste him. It left him feeling oddly hollow. What if it was horrible? And even more terrifying and more likely, what if he loved it...

“When you gunna stop being stubborn...”

“I-I can’t let you think what you’ve done is all right...”

“It’s not about right or wrong, its about what’s happened, what’s happening...you want me-

“Sex, said it before-

“No...I can see it in your eyes...something else.”

They didn’t speak again for the remaining time in the shower, Bucky’s chin rested on Steve’s shoulder and he struggled to stay awake. He watched the small window, seeing the day fade in favour of night while Steve held him. With Steve’s hands running over his flesh he gave in to the tug of sleep, ignoring the shadow of black that ran across the tree’s in the distance...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut next chapter :O...thought I'd give Bucky a rest...well...from Steve, shits gunna go down.
> 
> Really hope your still with me for the ride... <3


	7. Part 7 of 11ish...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No sex...I know, it sucks...  
> But shit goes down....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd, all mistakes painfully mine.  
> Thankyou so much for the comments, they really do motivate me to write more!  
> <3 love for kudo's too.

Bucky woke in the canopy of Steve’s arms, warm and snuggled, forehead to Steve’s spectacular chest. The scent of Steve filled him up, made his insides dance and squirm with happiness. He scolded his stupid reaction, huffing through his nose at Steve’s body. They were both on there sides, front’s facing each other, legs tangled and hooked in slumber, and Bucky had no recollection how they got like that.

He spent the next few minutes concentrating on all the areas of his body that didn’t feel so good to distract himself, his whipped ass, his battered prostate, his aching arms and stinging raw nipples...even with all that, he felt comfortable in Steve’s arms, stealing his warmth, breathing in his ridiculously good smell, face to his smooth soft skin.

Bucky growled at himself, would’ve slapped himself in the face had he been able to do it without waking Steve. He needed to...he didn’t have a clue what he needed, mind snagging in thought...

He needed to not like this intimacy but he did, he was tempted to snuggle closer and give into the tug of sleep again.  
Instead, Bucky shifted and the coils of limbs loosened allowing him to lean back and look at Steve. He did, through the top of his lashes, sneak a look at Steve’s face. The man he called a monster, the one he was wrapped up with.

Every line, either from his scrunched up brow, or his triumphant crinkled eyes had flattened, his eyes were shut and Bucky marvelled at the blond lashes, resting delicately on his under eye. Air whistled softly through his nose, in rhythm with the rise and fall of his chest. He wasn’t just gob-smackingly sexy, but he was also beautiful too, an angel, his hair even glowed with light from the fire as if it were a halo.

There was no flicker of movement from Steve, no twitch in his lips, he was asleep, completely blissed out and relaxed with Bucky in his grip and it made something fizzle in Bucky’s insides.

A normally repressed feeling was expanding in Bucky, it wasn’t the lust and craving he was familiar with, nor the excitement tinged with fear like when they had sex, this was different, more terrifying and confusing. Psychically it was higher up, the top of his chest, it felt jittery, fluttery, as if a million butterfly’s were flapping there wings, although delicate and harmless individually, together they were putting pressure on his ribcage, in danger of shattering his bones to escape and be free.

Bucky tried to remember whether Steve had given him another drugged drink, but he drew a blank, scrunching his head he remembered after the shower finished, Steve wrapped him up, propped him on a chair in the kitchen like a child. He’d eaten what Steve gave him, fed from his fingers, drank the glass offered, but all he consumed was prepared in front of him, no tampering. Which meant the feeling in his chest was his own, his own stupid emotions, and that was a gutting realisation.

When he pictured going back to his house alone, back to his job and his boring life without Steve. It left him cold, an ice danger to his heart. He didn’t know what he wanted beyond the cabin, when they got back to normality, but he knew for certain he wouldn’t be able to get Steve out of his head, knew he couldn’t go back to how things were.

Steve’s soft snores paused and Bucky held his breath, attention glued to Steve’s eyes to see them flash open, trap him in their depths, they didn’t instead Steve made a snorting noise in the back of his throat and settled back down.

Before Bucky could help it, or stop it, he smiled, trying not to laugh at Steve’s unconscious impression of a pig. He smiled when he thought of the contrast to earlier, the stalking beast, now a snuffling hog.

Steve’s arms flexed, an his sleepy head moved forwards, Bucky felt the press of a kiss to the top of his head and froze. Trying not to register that it was nice, affection from Steve made him feel warm and gooey. He bit his tongue to fill himself with sharp pain, dissolving any pleasure he got from Steve’s unconscious kiss. Steve sunk back into his original position and Bucky just stared at his stupidly perfect face.

Pink plump lips pressed together, that’s all Bucky could focus on. He’d wanted to kiss them in the shower but held back, he’d wanted to kiss them before that but stopped himself, not wanting to admit to that desire, that was too intimate. His body was physically spent after there activity’s, and he knew the kissing in the shower wouldn’t of been out of lust, he wanted to do it for comfort, for safely and home. Steve wasn’t any of them and his heart needed to realise that.

The butterfly’s in his chest thumped harder, tickling his throat, making it impossible for him to ignore. He was afraid of kissing Steve in case he felt something other than lust an excitement, something forbidden. There was no way he could have feelings for Steve...

The man that started kidnapping him, drugging him and fucking him. The man that had killed an innocent man in his bed. The man that had upset Brock, Bucky’s saviour.... He was not supposed to like Steve, but his attention was addictive. The way Steve looked at him, like he wanted to consume him, and then there were other moments when Steve looked so lost without him, the funeral, in the woods. That hurt for Bucky to see, made his stomach drop to his toes and his diaphragm tug painfully.

He had to prove to himself it was about sex, crazily-amazing sex, nothing else, and the way of proving that...was by kissing Steve and feeling nothing. That was the stupid challenge he had set himself, the idiotic act he had pinned his hope on.

He had to try, not while Steve was awake and in control, he had a way of over-running Bucky’s mind and senses, lust and desire would be too prominent to see if love was present to. He had to try with Steve unaware, only a press of lips to see if those persistent butterfly’s all dropped dead on contact, coz god, he hoped they did.

He angled up, wetting his own lips and edged forward. An inch away he paused, swallowed his constricting throat and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to hide his conflicted whine. This close his heart was picking up speed, his stomach flipped wildly, not good signs, he wanted nothing, he wanted to feel a big abyss of numbness.

Fuck it, he thought, pushing forward the final inch and connecting his mouth to Steve’s. He kept his eyes open, readying himself for the moment Steve’s cocky smile spread his lips, or for his lids to open and reveal all-pupil eyes. Nothing, Steve continued his wheezy sleep and Bucky moved all his attention to his lips, the warm soft lips against his.

He held the position, not moving his mouth, just pressing there delicate skin together and listening to his body, what it was telling him. And what it was telling him was devastating, a dam of realisation crumbling until he began to tremble.

He prayed there would be nothing, the butterfly’s would die or morph into angry bees, but instead they fluttered the whole way up his throat, escaping his lips with a gasp of emotion against Steve’s mouth. The weight in his chest lightened and all he was doing was holding his mouth to Steve’s, no movement, no tongues dancing, just light pressure. He could hear his heart thundering, his breathing staggering and his flesh pulling tight with tingles-

Bucky pulled away, muttering a ‘shit’ to himself. He really had lost his mind, had someone how fallen for- he quickly shook the thought out of his head. 

 

Bucky detached himself slowly, finding some sweatpants in the dark and a t-shirt that engulfed him in the scent of Steve, he paused breathing it in, before smacking the heel of his hand into his forehead. What a moron, that’s the kinda thing sappy lovers do in films he growled to himself.

Bucky managed to stumble through the cabin towards the kitchen. He didn’t bother with the lights, not wanting Steve to wake up, he needed some time to process what his heart was telling him. He wanted Steve, the thought of having a life without him hurt like a bitch, he craved his body like a drug, relished in his attention, felt alive with Steve chasing him...

Dragging his hand down his face he swore again, waving his hand for a glass and filling it up quietly so not to alarm Steve.  
He stared out the window as he gulped it down, wiping the back of his arm over his mouth when he had finished. He liked Steve, more than liked him, he had no clue what to do with that fact, other than to mutter curse words at himself and contemplate pleading insanity.

A shadow of movement in the trees had him squinting, it was still dark outside but his adjusted eyes could just about make out shapes, the trunks of trees. Another shadow moved and Bucky did his best to track it but lost it in the mass of black.

Bucky wondered if he was going mad, imagining ghosts rushing about, maybe it was Mr Tracker, haunting him from beyond the grave, the thought made Bucky shiver and face away, back towards Steve sleeping on the makeshift bed in front of the fire.

Except, Bucky’s attention was robbed by a small red dot shakily moving across the back wall, the directory of the beam meant it was coming from behind him, through the window he was standing in front. He turned slowly, heart choking in its beats with terror, the beam was no longer on the back wall, but his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

He threw himself down and the shot ran out, followed by another from a different direction, quick sprints of rapid fire shredding the walls.  
Bucky curled into a ball on his side, crunching his body as tight as he could with his hands over his ears, trying to soften the roar of guns. The roaring and sound of destruction carried on, Bucky did his best to zone out, if death was coming he wanted to be completely unaware, not face the splinter of wood destine to decapitate him.

“Stay there...” A voice called, but he didn’t no whether it was Steve’s or one of the men currently tearing the place apart.

Hands were on him, tugging him and he resisted, all until Steve pried his arms away, and told him to open his eyes. Bucky hadn’t even realised he had closed them until he was staring into Steve’s manic ones.  
The guns had stopped, but there were loud metallic clomps from outside.

“Are you hurt?”

Apart from his eardrums feeling on fire, he was fine and was quick to shake his head at the now fully dressed Steve.  
There was warmth in Steve’s face, a tugging expression that made Bucky reach out and grip his bicep to reassure him. One curt nod and Steve’s face darkened, back to murderous intensity.

“There reloading.” Steve told him, tugging him along the floor, Bucky went, still curled in a ball.

Steve moved them under the table, reaching out and grabbing the bottom of the couch and hauling it over, blocking one side off. He had hold of the comforter, covered Bucky’s body in it so only his head poked out the top. Steve leaned back, trying to sneak a look outside, but Bucky grabbed him, tugging him back.

“I’ve contacted the tower, it’s gunna be alright-

Then the walls began splintering, the noise of zinging bullets obliterating the wood, shards and spikes flew in all directions. Steve climbed over Bucky in a protective stance, arms caging around his head to make sure no stray debris struck him. There was more than one gun, the quick succession of bullets indicating it was a machine gun, several of them, shooting from every side of the cabin, turning the place to rubble.

Bucky wiggled a hand out of his cocoon, and clutched onto Steve’s t-shirt like a dying man, ears ringing and face scrunched expecting pain, for a stray bullet or splinter of wood to stab into his body. Steve appeared calm, fixed in his position protecting Bucky from any harm. The roof collapsed, slamming into the table and making the ground they were on vibrate.

The hail of fire stopped abruptly, and the silence that followed was tense, Steve waited a beat before removing the comforter and skimming down Bucky’s body, hands fanning around checking for any injury.  
Bucky was surprised to see his blue eyes shimmering, actual worry on every line of his face. Bucky tried to sit up but was promptly pushed back down by the anxious Steve. In the end Bucky gripped onto his face, tugging him down to lay on top.

“I’m alright.” He said firmly to the blue eyes, and Steve slumped in relief, still keeping Bucky in the protective cage of his body.

Bucky swiped a bloodied mark on Steve’s face, the slice of red that dribbled to the floor, there were so many red slices, suddenly swelling with blood, Steve’s face, his arms, and chest, all marred by red beading lines. It looked like someone had attacked him with a cheese grater. Red seeped into Steve’s t-shirt, staining the white material red, looking down at Steve’s jeans he saw other red splodges growing on Steve’s thighs.

“Fuck.” He breathed, “fuck Steve-

Steve turned his face into Bucky’s hand, kissing his palm softly, “I’m okay...I heal fast...”

Bucky could feel the erratic twitching of his eyebrows, the wobble in his lip. Steve saw too, and the expression of wonder stole his face, he tracked Bucky’s worried lines with his fingertips.

“You care about me...” he said, in the same floaty tone he used in the woods.

Bucky didn’t even deny it, he nodded under Steve’s fingers an Steve smiled in reply, big and beautiful and so bloody wrong when he was covered in blood and they were being stalked by the grim reaper.

 

Alongside the sound of gun’s being reloaded, there were voice outside the ruined cabin, concentrating really hard Bucky managed to pick apart their accents, Russian, they were discussing if they thought Captain America was dead, each daring each other to go inside and check.

“They think you’re dead...”He whispered into Steve’s ear.

“You know what they’re saying?”

Bucky nodded, trying to hear whole sentences but failing, they were too quiet, wary.

“Are they gunna come in?” Steve hushed back into Bucky’s ear making him shudder at the contact.

“They’re not brave enough.”

The smile Steve beamed down at him was unnerving, creepy for sure. Steve was elated they were too afraid to enter the cabin.  
Bucky stiffened at the next words he understood, Steve felt the change in his body and nose nudged him, “what is it?”

“They’re-they’re going to gas us...”

The happiness emitting from Steve vanished and just as he opened his mouth to speak, something thudded and rolled across the floor, followed by another canister. Bucky tried to wiggle free of Steve, but he clamped down hard.

“No! You go outside and they will tear you apart.”

Bucky clutched at Steve’s biceps, willing him to understand the dire situation if they stayed, “we have to go-

“I sent a distress call to the tower, they will be here soon.”

Steve’s normal control was wavering under Bucky’s distress. The hissing of the chemical in the room was filling Bucky with dread and panic, somehow facing down machine guns seemed more appealing than the snake canisters.

“Gotta trust me Bucky.”

Bucky stilled at the plea, nodded once, then buried his face in Steve’s t-shirt, the gas was already creeping down his throat, making him spasm and cough, his eyes were stinging, and even though his lids were crunched firmly shut the gas was till getting in, making them burn raw and leak. He was going to die, be slaughtered by the Russian men outside or vomit up his own lungs. Either way, it didn’t seem a pleasant way to go...

The voices outside grumbled and laughed, Steve coughed into his own shoulder before asking with an affected voice, “what did they say?”

“Sa-said-will..shoot you like a rat.”

Bucky felt the growl rumble in Steve’s chest, he was albeit smothering Bucky with his body, trying to act as a barrier. Bucky wheezed, coughed and spluttered and the need to run was overwhelming, Steve kept him in place, trying to sooth him with broken up words that didn’t register.

His skin burned, not comparable to the way Steve made it hot, this pain was unstoppable, fresh, like a graze all down his insides, like blistering in his lungs, and his eyes were streaming tears, hot down his clammy cheeks.  
“Steve-I..I can’t-

He couldn’t breathe, it hurt too much and his breathing became shallower, not wanted to draw anymore of the evil air into his body. He was drowning, this time on dry land in chemical fumes.

“Hang on Bucky.” Steve gasped, Bucky could hear the distress in his voice, the worry, it only added to Bucky’s panic, if Steve thought they were doomed, then chances were they had no hope.

“They will be here soon, I promise you- 

A sky splitting whistle cut through the atmosphere, high in the sky there was the roar of thunder, the voices outside were louder, gun’s blared their rounds, pinging against metal.

“Come on Buck,” Steve slid out from the table, tugging Bucky after and throwing him over his shoulder. Bucky clung on, still keeping his eyes scrunched tight and his mouth pressed into the material of Steve’s shirt.

The noise of gunfire and clashing metal got louder briefly before it faded down, still there in the background but not deafening anymore.  
Bucky’s bare back was cool against the air, Steve placed him down, sitting him at the base of a tree. His hands were doing there intense mapping again, trying to locate an injury. His inside’s couldn’t be soothed by Steve’s hand’s but the cool air was helping his raw throat.

“’m okay...” Bucky said, but still didn’t open his singed eyes, his lungs were functioning with ease again, but he wasn’t risking damage to his sight.

There was an unhappy whine in front of him, two warm hands cupping his cheeks. The touch of lips to Bucky’s was gentle, a fragile kiss that screamed vulnerability.

Bucky battled against his tear clogged eyelashes, opening them to look at Steve, the worry, the helpless expression on his face had Bucky transfixed, Steve’s idea of love was backwards, wrong, but there was no denying his feelings when he looked at Bucky like that, broken and terrified.

Bucky gripped onto the hand against his cheek, linking his fingers through, “I promise I’m alright Steve.”  
The gunfight continued, Bucky could see the flashes of explosions in Steve’s blue eyes, the avengers needed his help.

“Go!” Bucky said, giving Steve a push. He was reluctant to do so, staggering back on his heels with a wounded puppy expression, “give them hell...”he added quick.

Steve nodded, giving one last visual check of Bucky before sprinting off towards the destruction.  
Bucky peered round the tree and watched the drama unfold, the one they called falcon swooped towards Steve, tossing him the infamous shield, and then the first avenger was on the attackers, battering them to pulp with deadly swings of his shield. He wasn’t in the captain America suit Bucky had seen him fight in on the TV, but a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt stained red with his own blood, quickly being blotched by other peoples.

Steve was in his element, unleashed and allowed to rampage against those he felt deserved it. The smile on his face was evil, his body language intimidating and unstoppable. He was an unquestionable asset in the war and continued to be so against threats, annihilating the enemy.

Bucky spotted a few of the other avengers, falcon and iron man were shooting through the sky, black widow was stunning the hell out of those that got to close to her. Bucky’s eyes were still blurry an at a guess they were probably blood red, but he could make out other hostiles in the trees, some even appeared to be running away, terrified when Steve roared in their direction.

The snap of a twig behind Bucky had a shudder run up his spine, he turned slowly, confronted with a man dressed head to toe in black, straps covered his body, all equip with knives and guns. He prayed this was another avenger that hadn’t been revealed yet, but then he spoke, calling Bucky captain America’s little play thing, the Russian words had Bucky backing off, spying Steve and the others over his shoulder.

Shit, he thought, the situation was not good- The man before him moved lightning fast, as quick as Steve could move with the same tidal wave of force, his hand slapped over Bucky’s mouth as he bulldozed his back into the tree. His yelp of pain was muffled, his head pounded fiercely at the solid trunk behind him, making everything sway and pulse. The strength of the man was incredible, easily rendering Bucky helpless and weak.

A cool blade pressed to his neck, the man holding it had intent in his eyes, and he scanned Bucky’s face, growing more excited by the fear he saw.

Shit, Bucky thought again, trying to wiggle free, but the man shushed Bucky like he was a startled child, chuckling as he did so, telling him if he stayed quiet and behaved, he’d let him live. The man’s face was hovering by Bucky’s neck, he breathed deep, moaning that Bucky smelled good. Bucky cursed his luck, he had just escaped one deadly situation and was in another one, except Steve wasn’t there this time, he was alone against a guy stronger and quicker, that had no emotional connection to the man he was threatening.

He tried to push away, but the man was solid and shook his head disapprovingly at Bucky’s attempt, the hand with the knife moved fast, plunging through Bucky’s palm and out the other side, his pained cry was muffled by the man’s free hand, Bucky tried to move his head but he held him firm, kept pushing with his strength until Bucky’s bleeding hand was against the tree trunk, still pushing, he edged the blade further in, forcing the sharped blade into the trunk, impaling Bucky’s hand above his head.

Bucky sobbed, eyes running with fiery pain but he couldn’t vocalise it, the man still had his hand firmly on his mouth. Bucky’s stuck hand trembled, each minuet movement was splitting more of his damaged skin. The man smirked, leaning back to look at his handy work, before creeping a look towards the sound of gunfire, where the fight was still ongoing.

It was the first time Bucky was begging for Steve to appear, needing him to stop the pain he was in and get rid of the creature inflicting it. This guy was crazy, a lunatic, but he wasn’t Bucky’s _lunatic_ , Bucky needed his one to get his ass there rather quick and destroy this man.

Blood was pouring down his outstretched arm, the metallic tang was in the air and the man moved his mouth to lap at it. He hummed, pulling back to grin at Bucky in triumph, not like Steve’s triumphant smile, this one was vicious, suggested more pain. Thinking ‘shit’ didn’t do the terror in his mind justice, instead Bucky squeaked.

The mans tacky breath was back on Bucky’s ear, whispering for him to behave or he’d do the other hand, then his throat. Bucky nodded underneath the palm, eye’s still dripping and body jerking from pain, the blood kept rolling down in rivers, the wound didn’t have a chance to clot with the blade razor-sharp and stuck inside, biting into the surrounding flesh.

The masked man husked in Bucky ear, told him he’d seen him the day before in the woods, had heard his cry’s of pleasure and wanted to listen to more, to be the one to make them.

The mans blood covered hand pawed at the sweatpants Bucky was wearing, yanking them down, there was no hint of arousal from Bucky, he was completely flaccid from pain and terror, the man seemed to delight in the lack of interest, unlatching his own pants and tugging the zip down one handed.

The noise behind them stopped, hope bloomed in Bucky’s chest, the voice’s talking were American, the avengers in deep conversation, Bucky couldn’t hear Steve all until he bellowed out a “Bucky!” at the top of his lungs.

The man pinning him to the tree repeated the word back, heavy with his accent, hushed into Bucky’s ear.  
Steve yelled it again and the other avengers were silenced, all until one asked, who he was looking for...

“Bucky was with me,” Steve replied, “he must’ve run off into the woods.” 

Trying to communicate with Steve telepathically was no use, no matter how much he willed it, Bucky was hidden from Steve, pressed against the tree. The voices of the avengers got further away, the slap of feet disappearing in to the woods. Hope plummeted down to his toes, Steve was leaving, searching for him somewhere else. Fear had his body trembling, mind whiting out in terror and paralysing his limbs.

The man pulled back again, still concealing Bucky’s sobs, he continued to shuffle out of his pants, angling himself between Bucky’s thighs and pushing in the gap.

He hummed, asking Bucky how was the best way to do this. The mans blood covered hand snaked around Bucky’s lower back, separating his cheeks and rubbing against the folds of tender skin. The man hushed into his ear that blood was the best kind of lube, and if he stayed still it would hurt less.

Bucky jerked up violently with his knee hitting the excited man, his clamping hand loosened enough for Bucky to scream for Steve, then the hand was back on his mouth, the fingers that had been trailing his crack were around another knife, and Bucky did his best to bat him away but again the blade sunk into him, this time his left wrist, pushing through with a sickening crunch of bone.

His arm was nailed to the tree just like his right hand, forced deep into the wood till it stayed there on its own accord. The man hissed that he was going to kill Bucky, slit his throat and fuck him while he bled out. 

His mouth uncovered, Bucky didn’t scream for help, he stared daggers into the mans eyes, forcing words through his gritted the teeth, “Steve’s gunna fuck you up.”

The man pulled back in confusion, before grounding his hips towards Bucky’s-

The shield struck him, knocking him to the floor a few meters away, Bucky couldn’t sag with relief, his arms were aching with burning pain, any slight movement had his skin tearing.

Steve appeared, barrelling into the man and tossing him onto the ground like he was nothing, he straddled him, raining his fists down on the others face. Blood splattered, Bucky could see the face of the man concaving from brute force.

The other avengers arrived, ignoring Steve’s brutal killing of the man behind, the one they called black window, tugged up Bucky’s sweat pants, he could still feel the stickiness between his legs from the creeps cock, could still feel the lingering pressure of his fingers on his body and his own blood itching where it dried against his crack.

The falcon tried to pull the blades free from the tree, but they didn’t budge, each slight wiggle had Bucky hissing and slamming his head back into the trunk in agony. In the end iron man stepped forward, suit powering up and pulling the blades out with ease.  
Bucky tried to stand but couldn’t, he collapsed, both falcon and widow caught him and hooked him under the shoulders to get him to stand.

“We need to get him in the jet...”

The iron man suit nodded, but when they tried to pull him away Bucky yelped, scrambling from there grip, logically Bucky knew they were safe, probably safer than Steve, but he didn’t want them, he wanted the man currently obliterating a human body. The one growling and roaring with each wet splat of flesh. Steve had moved from his fists to his shield, smashing the metal into the man’s rib cage, the sickening sound of snapping bone and the gurgle of fluid penetrated the air, the smell of blood so thick it turned Bucky stomach, made him hunch forward.

The other avengers didn’t intervene with Steve’s slaughtering, what surprised Bucky was they didn’t even seem shocked, they were waiting, waiting for Steve to satisfy his blood lust.

Hands stinging with blistering pain, bare chest covered in trails of his own blood, Bucky stumbled forward, dropping to his knees, gasping out Steve’s name.

Only then did the fury driven man stop, he jerked upwards, as if waking up from some daze before turning to find Bucky.

Bucky stretched his arms out and Steve jumped from the decapitated man, rushing over and pulling Bucky into a bruising hug. It didn’t matter that Steve was coated in red, didn’t matter that there were pieces of flesh in his hair that weren’t his. Steve had him, and he was absolutely sure no one would be able to touch him with Steve there.

Sure enough, when falcon went to grip Bucky’s hand, Steve unleashed a murderous growl of ‘don’t touch him,’ and he quickly retreated.  
Iron man tried, probably more comfortable approaching Steve with the armour Bucky concluded.  
“Steve we need to get him in the jet...”

The body Bucky was hugging was tense to the max, all hard angles and stone flesh, Bucky shoved his face in Steve’s neck, hooked his elbows around Steve’s neck in an unbreakable coil, and breathed deep.

Steve stood from their crouched position, taking Bucky with him, he heaved Bucky’s thighs around his body and Bucky immediately clamped the position, keeping himself completely glued to Steve’s body, so close he was in danger of sinking under his skin and hiding.  
His arms dangled against Steve’s back, still stinging and thumping with agony, but he felt safe, felt like he was no longer inching along the line of death.

“Mine.” Steve grumbled into his ear.

“So fucking _yours_.” Bucky replied, trying to get even nearer to Steve, hiding in his hills and valleys of muscle.

Steve was walking to the jet, the avengers hovered behind, all darting cautious looks to each other before they followed with their heads hung, as if it was a death march.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your expecting the next chapter to be lovey-dovey fluff/hurt and comfort, I'm sorry. Steves a bastard, and Buckys a mess...  
> Eeeekkkkk  
> I'm hoping to get one more chapter out before christmas!
> 
> For some reason I got an instagram, I'll do my best to post something that'll make you smile, cringe or question my sanity...but yeah...<3  
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/cookie_book_collins/)


	8. Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has a change of heart and Bucky falls apart....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took aaaages...but I didn't want to leave it on a cliffhanger  
> Unbeta'd all mistakes are mine (very early in the morning so theres probably more than normal)  
> Thanks for kudos and comments, they keep me going :)  
> enjoy/endure this chapter....poor Bucky...

Reality came back in pieces, Bucky vaguely remembered being pushed in a hospital bed, the burning lights as he stared up into space. The sting of a needle entering his arm and the floaty image of Steve Rogers watching over.

Still splattered in crusty blood, eye’s still black and soul destroying. Bucky’s brain was fogged with painkillers, he could no longer feel the blistering pain in his arm and hand, and when he looked at the damage, he almost laughed in his giddy state, so detached from his mind, mangled flesh was hilarious.

“Back in the real world...”He managed to mutter at the looming avenger, the only sign he heard was a curt nod, agreeing to what Bucky had just said. He may have wailed for Steve when he thought he was going to die, may’ve stuck to his body like a barnacle to a rock and breathed that devil tainted scent deep in his lungs to calm himself, but his heart still throbbed uncomfortably at the thought of beating for that man or admitting it aloud for him to hear...

Now they were away from the cabin, he wondered what Steve’s next move would be to make him completely his. He knew he was, knew he was completely gone on Steve, but he was still wary, Steve was unpredictable, dangerous. The hazy image of Steve started to spin and Bucky threw his head back into the cushion, the crease of the material deafening him to whatever Steve had said, he was too sleepy to dwell on it, sighing long at another prickle in his arm.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bucky blinked the hospital lights into focus, before the angry pinch in his arm had his fuzzy eyes focussing down at his damaged limbs, both in cast’s but his left one was much bigger, not just encasing his hand but half of his forearm to.  
The bed was dressed in white sheets, the walls the same and there was the distinctive smell of antiseptic, hospital his mind supplied, not a ward though, a whole room with a bathroom to the side, he groaned loudly, it was going to cost him being cared for this way.

“Ah, you’re awake...that’s good...”

Bucky nodded, taking a sip of water from the straw shoved to his lips, the man beside him was just as recognisable outside of the iron man armour. He smiled warily, placing the cup back on the side.

“Thanks...”

Tony shot a small smile that did nothing to ease Bucky’s nervousness, the guy was shifty as hell, darting looks over his shoulder towards the door.  
“You not going to ask where you are?” Tony asked finally.

Bucky blinked before scrunching his face, did Tony really think he was that stupid not to realise he was in a hospital, Tony Stark was supposedly clever..., just to be sure he decided to say it out loud, “hospital...”

“Erm kinda...you’re in the tower...”

Bucky stiffened, before darting accusing looks around the room, the tower, Steve had to be in the tower, somewhere near by. Why wasn’t he there when Bucky woke up...

The door creaked open and Bucky’s heart jumped to his throat, Tony frowned at the pounding heart monitor but didn’t comment. Bucky tried his best to school his face of disappointment when Sharon walked into the room.  
“How you feeling?”

Bucky inwardly scoffed and chose not to answer disappointed, instead he gave a grim smile in Sharon’s direction.  
“Sore...feel sore...”

Glancing down his stomach clenched at his body, one cast encased his hand, the other his hand and his forearm. He tried to flex his fingers but there reactions were slow, no power in the motion at all.

Sharon came forward, perching on the bed side chair with pouting expression. Bucky was fed up with the elephant in the room so just blurted the question they were expecting.

“Where’s-where’s Steve?”

There was another shift in Tony’s posture, an odd shuffle from the usually confidence oozing man, “he’s-he’ll-

Sharon took over, finishing Tony’s stuttering, “he’s not here...”

Again, everyone seemed to think he was an idiot, it was flaming obvious to Bucky Steve was not there.  
“When-when will he be back?...”

She sighed with fake sympathy, “day, days, weeks...who knows.”

Bucky felt like his stomach had dropped to his toes, more than that it had left his body altogether.  
“Oh...” was all he could think of to say.

Sharon leaned forward, taking one of Bucky’s damaged hands, she spoke with a chuckle, “what were you expecting? Him to be here when you woke...him to take care of you....you’ve got to stop this obsession with him.”

Bucky blinked a few times, eyeing the bag of fluid feeding into his vein, not that he would be able to identify the crazy fluid seemingly effected his brain. A disbelieving, “what?” passed through his lips.

She tutted, squeezing his fingers, it probably hurt but the drugs he was on were blocking the pain, “trying to seduce him at my aunts funeral...turning up at the cabin unannounced...I know it’s exciting knowing someone famous, but your coming across a stalker...”

The laugh that escaped Bucky’s mouth came out strangled and crackly, he even darted his head round the room sure the noise hadn’t come from him.  
All the greeted his roaming eyes was a spiteful Sharon and a nervous Tony Stark.  
“You’ve taken advantage of him.” She spat, and Bucky wheezed out another manic giggle, but she continued, “tried to seduce him while the love of his life was laying ill in bed...”

That was past the point of funny for Bucky, Sharon mentioning Peggy that way, Bucky shook his head adamantly.  
“No, it’s him-

“Why would he want you?”

Bucky’s brained stuttered the words ‘because he’s crazy’ but he didn’t say them, just rolled his head on the pillow and released a huff.

“Can’t care about you much if he’s not here now...”

Those words sliced, straight down the centre of Bucky’s heart, all Steve’s rambling about love at first sight, yet he was absent when Bucky woke-

“Sharon...” Tony spoke her name in warning and she released Bucky’s hand fast.

“He needs a dose of reality, his obsessed with Steve is only one way...”  
She stood, wiping her hands on the thighs of her jeans, “anyway...there’s someone here to see you.”

Even though logically he knew it wouldn’t be Steve, his name was on repeat in Bucky’s head, he was too doped out to shush the constant chanting of Steve’s name, needing him, but instead of the fair-haired avenger, Brock strolled into the room.

He rushed over and pawed at Bucky on the bed, eyes big and watering.  
“Jesus Buck.” He breathed, settling in the chair beside him and taking up his hand in a much lighter grip.

Bucky felt numb, unsure what to do with Brock beside him looking devastated.

“Here,” he held up a bag so Bucky could see, “bits, clothes, phones in there too...”

The warm smile that spread Brocks mouth soured Bucky’s insides, he shifted back into the pillow with tears prickling his eyes. Shit, he wasn’t ready for this, couldn’t cope with it, started to wish he was in a coma and it was all a messed up dream.

“It’s alright babe, you’re safe now...”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, wishing Brock away, wishing the whole situation away, it was too painful, too fresh in his mind.  
Fingertips trailed the tears on his cheeks softly, Brock was speaking soothing words in a low tone. Bucky leaned into the touch, then leaned away, his whole mind felt like it was being torn apart, the comfort wasn’t from the man he wanted it from, needed it from.

“You’re very lucky to have Brock.” Sharon said, with her pitying tone. Brock breathed a singular laugh.

“Not him that’s lucky, but me-

“I can’t do this Brock...” he sobbed, still with his eyes crunched tight.

“What do you mean?”

“Us...it’s not working out...”

Silence followed and Bucky struggled to open his clogged lashes, fixing his eyes on Brock who shook his head in denial.  
“I’m sorry,” he tried but Brock continued to shake his head left to right.

“Look babe...you’ve just had a shock, getting that drunk and having those guys hurt you-  
Bucky frowned at the story Brock was spinning, half happy he didn’t know he’d been with Steve, half angry he thought he’d gotten drunk and himself beaten up.

“Lucky, these guys found you hey...” Brock flicked his head towards Tony and Sharon.

“No...Brock...I can’t do this anymore, I don’t-

“Concussion talking...” Sharon supplied, moving beside Brock and speaking to him as if Bucky wasn’t present, “hit the back of his head pretty hard on the concrete-

“Wasn’t the goddamn pavement, was a tree-

Sharon shot a pitying expression Brocks way, “as I told you earlier he was pretty drunk when we picked him up...”  
Her finger circled her temple in a crazy motion and Bucky thumped his aching arm down on the bed.

“Not what happened! Steve, where is Steve?”

Brocks eyes got impossibly wider, “why do you want him?”

“He-he knows what happened-

“Got some attachment to him when he’s drunk,” Sharon added and Bucky growled in her direction.

Brock nodded grimly, but didn’t look angrily at Bucky, “drink, always been your weakness...”

“No!” the word burned coming out Bucky’s throat but he was sick of being manipulated, having his reality played with, Brock deserved the truth, no matter how much it was going to hurt him.  
“I’ve been-I’ve been seeing Steve behind your back.”

Brock lurched up, glaring at Sharon for some confirmation, she shook her head with a sympathy-pressed smile and Bucky gasped bitch-

Brocks voice was level when he spoke, not the voice of someone who just found out their boyfriend was cheating, “Bucky...its just alcohol right...”

“I’m not a drunk and I’m not taking anything else!”

Sharon tutted, “they always deny it, don’t understand we only wanna help...”

Brock nodded sympathetically, “gunna get you some help, a good rehab-

“Sounds like a great idea.” Sharon interrupted, squeezing Brocks shoulder.

“I don’t need rehab! I need you to listen to me when I say were done, I don’t love you Brock.”

Brock stumbled as if Bucky had struck him, “you don’t love me...” he mumbled back dazed.

“I’m sorry, I tried-

“Tried,” Brock laughed, ignoring Sharon’s waving in his face, “tried? As if I’m that unlovable...”

“Not what I meant, but I can’t love you, its- it’s just not meant to be.”

Brock shook his head, not bothering wiping at his tears or running nose, “okay...fine...”  
He still looked stunned as hell, and Bucky wondered if his words had even sunk in.

“The concussion, he doesn’t know what he’s sayin-

Brock pushed passed the frantic Sharon, disappearing through the door. Had it registered above Bucky’s annoyance he would’ve been sad, but Sharon continued to prance about in front of the bed, curling her lip and snarling.

“You’re an idiot James, that man loved you.”

He knew Brock did, had known for years, but unhinged Steve had a point, staying with him, knowing he couldn’t return that love, wasn’t right. Brock deserved happiness from someone that wanted to give it.

Sharon left with a dramatic spin of her hair, leaving Bucky to sink back into the mattress. Then the crushing emotions of what he just done assaulted him, he’d broken Brocks heart, had sent his only ally in the world away. Before he realised it, fat drops of tears were hanging off his chin. Tony coughed and his heartbeat sprinted when he realised he wasn’t alone.

“Here...”  
Tony offered a tissue, but Bucky’s fucked up hands couldn’t close on it, it drifted down to the floor while they both watched.  
“S’okay, I’ll do it-“

Bucky turned away from his attempt, letting the tears fall, letting his leaking eyes run out of moisture and burn.

“Please...”his voice hitched and he struggled to get it under control, “tell me where Steve is...”

“He’s cleaning up...the mess...finding the men that ordered the attack...”

The mess from the cabin, the Russians that died in the avengers fire fight, and the other one, the one who just remained as chunks of human flesh on the ground. Bones and blood. Bucky shuddered, dropping back into the cushion, his momentary despair subsided under the buzz of medication Tony pumped in his vein.

An image of Steve smashing the masked man to death flashed in Bucky’s head. The blood lust was present on every line of his face, apparently Bucky was competing with that for Steve’s attention, the need for revenge was stronger than the need to comfort. He shouldn’t of been surprised, shouldn’t of cared...

“So...what were those guys after...”

Tony twirled on the spot, “short answer...Steve...”

Bucky rolled his eyes, did Tony think he was that stupid not to realise that, did they all think he was a goddamn idiot.

“What with Steve?...”

“Kidnap him, brainwash him, get him to do their deadly deeds...”

“Brainwash?”

Tony nodded, scratching at his bearded chin, “yeah, recovered a machine a few weeks ago, still trying to fix it up to see how it works, but think it’s got something to do with that, they were planning on using something similar on Steve...”

“You could use it to make him sane...”

Tony barked a laugh before coughing it away, “if only...Sooo erm...surgeons fixed your arm and hand as much as they could, the hand was easier than the wrist but they’ve pinned it into position..”

Bucky watched as Tony yanked a drawer open, pulling out an x-ray and humming at it before turning in to Bucky.  
“See here,” Tony coughed uncomfortably before continuing, “pins and screws, it should heal nicely, just will be stiff for a good while.”  
Bucky nodded but wasn’t paying much attention to his injured body, it currently didn’t hurt, and the goriness was hidden under a white cast-

“When can I leave...”

Tony squeaked, scratched the back of his head with another shuffle, “you lost a lot of blood, the gas and concussion...think it’s best you stay a night or two, help you..eat, drink and wash...” 

Bucky stared into Tony’s eyes, the sympathy hidden behind the professionalism, then the eye contact was abruptly stopped when he spun around.

“Buzz if you need anything...” He started to moved towards the door, a swift pace as if he wanted to escape before Bucky could speak.

 

Alone in the blank room Bucky whipped his head about, the window caught his eye and he got up on shaking legs, snagging on the IV line and hissing at the pinch. He was high up, at least twenty stories, there was little chance of jumping to escape the tower. He sunk back into the mattress with a sigh, Tony said they wanted to keep him in for a few days, a few days around the avengers but no Steve.

He lay in bed, and lacking any entertainment his mind warped with the previous days, the shit show of Peggy’s wake, Brocks crushed expression, the drive to the cabin and the sex they had there. The sex Bucky participated in, wanted. The rushing urge to kiss Steve, and then needing him there, needing Steve’s unwarranted devotion to keep him from harm.

The situation was a mess, the whole of the following day he spent watching the door, waiting for Steve to return to the tower and make his demands but it didn’t happen. A nurse came in and offered Bucky food, food he only nibbled at because he was still nervous about excepting anything for consumption that Steve might’ve tampered with, also his hands were useless, and being spoon fed made him want to curl up and die of shame.

Tony said a few days, but when Bucky spotted Steve through the window of the door his heart stopped, vision spun, relief so powerful he let out a needy sob.

Steve made a move towards the door, pushing it open an inch, but then his arms was snagged by a manicured hand. Bucky couldn’t see who the woman was from his position, but they tugged at Steve and he followed.

The next hour he glared at the door till his eyes burned, too afraid if he blinked he’d miss Steve. He just drifted off when a loud knock sounded at the door and Bucky swallowed, knowing that powerful beat of knuckles was from Steve, had to be.  
Steve peeked his head round the door and immediately Bucky’s heart skipped a beat, skipped several, if that was what a cardiac arrest felt like he relished it.

“Can I come in?”

Bucky was stunned, Steve had never asked him a question, he usually did what he wanted and fuck what Bucky said.

“Y-Yes...” Bucky whispered, swallowing to ease his coiling throat.

Steve was heading towards him, long powerful strides that made Bucky retreat into the bed, try to be absorbed into the mattress and pillow, equal measures of uncertainty and relief were battling in his head. He hated that he was relieved to see Steve, to know he wasn’t on his own, but something in Steve’s expression was off.

He expected Steve to keep coming towards him, push their foreheads together, or steal a touch of Bucky’s lips, but he didn’t he stood bolt upright at the end of the bed.  
The awkward stand off only ended when Bucky squirmed uncomfortably, pleaded with his eyes for Steve to say something, bloody anything.

“I wanna say I’m sorry.” Were the emotionless words that came from Steve lips.

Bucky glared with wide eyes, in the grand scheme of sorrys he was due from Steve, he wasn’t sure which one he was referring to.

“You were right,” He continued with the same blank expression, “I didn’t cope well after waking up from the ice, latched on to you when I saw you with Peggy. What I did...what I did was unforgivable, an I’m sorry and I promise, I really promise, I’ll not touch you again.”

Thankfully he was no longer hooked to the heart monitor, he didn’t want Steve to know it was racing, stuttering and jumping at Steve’s words.  
That’s what he wanted only days ago, Steve to leave him be, but now it felt like a lump was swelling in his throat, in danger of choking him to death.

“I understand you’ll never forgive me, an-an I’m sorry I put you in danger...”

There was a sparkle in his eye at the word danger, a hint of something in the otherwise blank canvas of a person.

“...You’re welcome to leave when you’re ready...” Steve reached inside his pocket and Bucky tensed expecting to see handcuffs but instead he pulled out a box of painkillers, “here, strong stuff.”

The pack was tossed on the bed, knocking into Bucky’s knee with a thud, he already knew he wouldn’t be taking anything from Steve ever again, even if he was forced to take on the pain in his arms raw, he would instead of being drugged by Steve. 

There was a stinging in Bucky’s eyes, a slab of concrete suddenly in his chest, pulling him down and obliterating all his organs. He wasn’t wanted anymore. Steve didn’t want him...

“Unless...there’s something you want Bucky?”

Steve was leaning closer, blue eyes targeting Bucky’s and keeping their attention. Words bubbled in Bucky’s throat, the desire to ask Steve to stay, to not change his mind about pursuing what ever the hell they were. The last firing brain cells sparked in Bucky’s head.

“No erm...no.”

Steve straightened, and Bucky was sure he saw disappointment in his features but he blamed it on the drugs still in his system.

“Okay, you need anything, you know where we are...Bye Bucky.”

He turned and strolled out the room as unaffected as when he came in, Bucky’s insides felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, crumbling under Steve’s change of mind and heart. He didn’t want Bucky anymore, didn’t have that craving to own him, didn’t even look at him with the intense gaze of the days before. There was nothing, like Bucky was nothing, a blip in his life that he’d over come. A psychotic episode that Bucky helped solve. It shocked Bucky that it made him feel hollow, an empty weight settling in his stomach.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bucky couldn’t stay in the tower after Steve’s blunt rejection, plodding back into his house he felt numb, eyes drawn to the couch where Steve had pressed him down, rather than sitting on it he fell to the floor, hugging his knees tight and doing his best not to sob. He didn’t even understand why he was upset, he wanted Steve to stop his obsession, but now he seemingly had, it hurt. Steve had put him on this pedestal, and suddenly it had been ripped from beneath him, dropping back into a meaningless life.

He reached out for his phone, the goofy picture of him and Brock flashed up, he’d taken it on the sly when Brock had been sleeping. He stabbed in the passcode, getting Brocks name up, his sorry was still typed out from before and he sent it, not knowing what else to put. He followed it with another message that he struggled to write, saying he was really sorry, not the most original thing to say he thought bitterly.

No reply, he could see Brock had read the message but not replied, then again he hadn’t given much to reply to. Texting was physically  
painful for his crippled hand, it took him five times as long with the same number of hissed curse words.

_Please, can we meet up, talk things through? X_

He didn’t know whether Steve’s threat still applied now he had woken up from his dark spell, but Bucky didn’t want to get back with Brock anyway, friends though, if he could salvage being friends that was a positive, cause he really needed a friend to help curve the depression zapping his mind.

_You are nothing but a filthy whore, don’t contact me again, I’m better off without you._

It stung, it worse than stung, it made a shaking whine escape his throat, ease its way out like a whimpering animal. He’d lost Brock completely, lost Steve too.

He didn’t sleep still waiting on equal hope and despair that Steve would show up, tell him it was some test or whatever, but he didn’t, the sun rose through the still opened curtains as Bucky rocked on his knees, halting at every sound in case it was him, in case he wasn’t alone.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, his stomach made the decision that it wanted feeding, forcing Bucky up from his comatose state. He didn’t even remember what he forced down his throat, whatever it was did the trick and his stomach stopped bubbling angrily. Sinking back to his spot on the floor, he waited again, not knowing what for, but after the stress of the last few days he was expecting more, not an empty chasm. Steve had turned him into some withering dog, waiting for its masters return. He only moved from his spot to piss, eat and occasionally eat.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

He managed to get out the house two days later, hands itching and aching for painkillers, he bought some, swallowing them before trundling home, bottles of drink, the only item of consumption in his bag.

He stewed in the house, torturing himself with the angry messages from Brock, each day he sent one harsher than the first, each day Bucky took a large swig of whiskey after reading them. He stared in longing at the door, not wishing Brock to come through but Steve, the man that was adamant he loved Bucky, they belonged together. He didn’t show and Bucky typed his name into google just to see him, but it wasn’t the same Steve as the one he knew. The one in the news had a compassionate smile, blue twinkling eyes and creases around his eyes and top of his nose, that screamed understanding, care. That was America’s golden boy, not the one Bucky’s body and mind longed to be reunited with.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________

Ten days after the cabin and there was still no sign of Steve, Bucky hadn’t had a conversation with another person for days and he was starting to go crazy, needing that distraction, that sense of life. To feel something other than the pit of doom he had fallen into.

He stumbled into the shower, washing his skin with burning water, wincing when it dripped into his cast and the bandage on his hand, he was sure he was told to keep the wounds dry but he didn’t care particularly, getting an infection and ending up in hospital didn’t seem so bad, there would be nurses and doctors, actual people to speak to.

Taking one final swig of burning liquid he headed out his front door, plodding down to the subway with his head bowed. He needed to speak with people, needed company and he knew just the place to satisfy that need.

As soon as he got in the doors of the care home he was ushered out, boss telling him he needed to rest till his arms had healed, he was no use to the residents if he couldn’t pick anything up, insert tubes, perform CPR. He was useless, even when he argued he could still speak to people, still comfort their loneliness, his boss paused, mouth unhinging when she noticed the slosh marks on Bucky’s t-shirt.

“Spilled a bit...” he mumbled.

She folded her arms, unimpressed, “you’ve been drinking, Jesus James...”

“Helps with the pain...” He replied, and he didn’t mean the physical kind, he meant the crushing weight of nothingness.

“Look, a concerned party has told us about your health issues...”

Bucky glared at her, or attempted to, she seemed to be jiggling about as he blinked, he held his hands up thinking his health issues were very obvious-

“Take this...”  
The leaflet she shoved under his nose had the words mental health and Bucky laughed, covering his mouth with his messed up palm.

“You think ‘m crazy?”

“There’s some websites...advice...”

He snorted, moving his hand to take it, it was too thin, he tried to grip it but his fingers lacked the strength and it fell it the ground at his feet.

“Go home James, get better an we’ll go from there...”She said firmly, waving him away.

 

He was in danger of having a nervous break down on the train, he realised how much he relied on the people there to stave of his own crippling loneliness, now he had nothing to distract him, no Brock, no people from work and no Steve.  
Steve had come crashing into his life like a whirlwind, leaving destruction without a care.

He’d changed his mind, decided he wasn’t obsessed with Bucky and apologised for the wrong doing. Except it didn’t feel wrong anymore, Bucky’s craved Steve’s attention, his body, his obsession, even his crazy love. Bucky’s isolated mind, needed something to latch on to. He still hated Steve, but he hated being without him more.

His head was bowed to the path, unworthy of facing the world, his nose twitched when he smelled smoke, it got stronger the nearer he got to his house, and he knew before he’d raised his head, his house was the source.  
Smoke billowed into the sky, thick and black, as he got closer he saw people gathering, hands on their heads watching flames take hold, unable to do anything.

His house, swallowed by flickering red, glowing hot as it was ravished by fire. Every possession, every item of clothing, every photograph of his mum, eaten by flames, the only things he had that meant something turned to ashes.

Bucky numbly watched, till the last embers of his home had been snuffed out by the firefighters, at some point one had wrapped a shock blanket over his shoulders, it started to slip, his messed up fingers couldn’t grip it and it landed on the pavement.  
He zoned, but his ears picked up on the words from some of the men, the heavily implied arson of his home. Someone had burned it to the ground and he was pretty sure he knew who.

 

His fist’s pounded the doors to the tower, enough to disturb his already aching wounds. Tony took pity and opened the door wide.

“Where is he?” Bucky growled, latching on to the lapels of Tony’s suit best he could with two messed up hands.

“By ‘he’ do you mean Steve? We’ve just finished a meeting, secret stuff-

Bucky snorted, stalking towards the door of the apparent meeting, Tony was covering for Steve, he’d prove Steve was responsible for torching his house.  
Bursting through the door with a roar, Bucky froze, a huge circle table, suited men and women surrounding it with documents in their hands. Steve was there, next to Sharon and the other avengers Bucky vaguely remembered, staring at him in startled confusion.

“You,” Bucky growled, pointing at Steve, “you bastard! Burned down my house, why!”

The thirty people around the table all darted looks to each other, the avengers fidgeted uncomfortably and Steve just glared, lacking all emotion.

“We’ve been deep in peace talks for the past four hours...” Steve mumbled and the rest of the entourage nodded their heads in agreement.

“Bullshit!”  
Bucky took a uncoordinated step back, colliding into Tony.

“Easy there...let’s get you a coffee hey, sober you up...”

Bucky whirled on him, “I’m not drunk.”

“Sure you’re not bud...”A flick of Tony’s head and two massive men wearing shades and suits gripped him under the shoulders, pulling him out of the room away from the meeting he’d just interrupted.

Tony shoved him into a chair not making eye contact, Bucky slumped, head lolling and falling in his cast covered hands. He knew Steve was responsible, had to be. Right? He didn’t know anymore, he scrubbed at his sweaty face, surrounded by the smell of smoke.

Steve appeared shortly after, unbuttoning the top of his shirt and breathing a disappointed sigh.

“It was you, had to have been you...” Bucky mumbled, doing his best not to sway. He realised he’d lost all his aggression, and sunk further into the chair defeated.

“What was? What are you talking about?

“The fire...my house, my stuff, why Steve, why are you so determined to destroy every part of me, this isn’t love, you can’t love me-

Steve shook his head and paced the room, his hands were shoved into the pockets of his pants.  
“You’re right, there’s no love...and I have no idea what happened to your house?”

The second part of Steve’s answer was ignored under the blow of the first, Steve speaking so confidently, saying he didn’t love Bucky. Of course Bucky knew that, his idea of love had been twisted and cruel but to hear not even Steve could love him picked at an already festering wound.

“Fire-house burned down.”

Steve seemed to understand the rambling, pushing his pink lips together contemplating, “I’ve been here all day, check the CCTV if you don’t believe me...”

Tony was already waiting, turning the computer so Bucky could see footage of inside the meeting, the time stamps at the bottom of the screen. He collapsed back down, lowering his head into his hands and peering up at Steve from the slight angle.  
Steve’s sympathetic smile had Bucky wishing his hand was healed so he could throw a punch, it probably would’ve done nothing to the pumped up avenger but it would’ve made Bucky feel slightly better.

“It wasn’t me...I know you’re still angry over everything that went on-

“Angry? You ruined my life!”

Steve stretched out his arm slowly, hand cupping Bucky’s cheek so light he whined. He couldn’t help but lean into it and shut his eyes.  
“Tell me what you want Bucky?”

Bucky reopened his lids, stared deep into the blue eyes of Steve rogers, convincing himself he could see the darkness, the obsession. He wanted to indulge in all things Steve, have all his worry’s melt away under his touch and his controlling words.

“What do you want?” Steve whispered, fingertips trailing along Bucky’s cheek bone into the hair above his ear and stroking it back.

“I want my life back.” He muttered bitterly.

The hand retracted with a sigh and Steve turned before Bucky could read the expression on his face.  
“Tony, is there any CCTV on Bucky’s street?”

Bucky watched as Tony nodded, his confidence had yet again been zapped out the room. His fingers danced on the keys to one of the computers-

“We have access to all the camera’s in the city.” Steve added.  
Tony hummed to himself before twisting the screen round for Bucky and Steve to see.

“He look familiar to you?”

Bucky’s heart missed a beat or three, Brock was outside his house. Bucky’s jaw dropped open when he saw him throw a stone to break the living room window, darting a look over his shoulder he pulled a bottle from his backpack, pouring the contents through the opening he’d created, then he struck a match, flicking it through the window with a smile.

Steve blew a breath through his teeth, “how well did you really know him, hey?”

Bucky swallowed, shaking his head in denial, Brock was angry, but he’d never to that, he’d never torch his house and destroy everything Bucky’s had.  
“Tony do a search on Brock Rumlow...criminal history...”

Bucky continued to flap his head side to side, “what are you doing?”

Steve ignored him, going to stand beside Tony. He tutted loudly at the screen and Bucky didn’t fail to notice how Tony retreated away, scratching the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable, either from Steve or whatever had came up on the search.  
“Got in to quite a lot of fights didn’t he...”

Bucky bristled, he knew Brocks history, knew he’d had a tough upbringing. A few minor scuffles here and there.

“Knocked a guys teeth out...” Steve added, still scrolling down the list of felonies.

“You can’t talk, you smashed a guy to hell in front of me.”

Steve paused, eyes snapping over to Bucky’s, “said guy was going to rape and kill you, Brock smashed this boys face in because he was gay...”

Bucky squeaked, shaking his head again fast, the movement dislodged the tears on his lashes.

“In fact, all of his offenses are against homosexuals, you’ve had a lucky escape...he’s..a monster.”

The screen was angled around again so Bucky could see the list of offenses, witness statements, Brocks smug looking mug shot. Brock hadn’t told him that, said it was a few small scuffles, nothing serious...  
“Doesn’t even look sorry for knocking that kids teeth out.”

“Sh-shut up-“ Bucky managed, holding on to his gut to stop it squirming.

“I mean I’ve done a lot of bad shit, but I’ve not knocked the teeth out of a boy half my age...”

Bucky giggled savagely, the sound made both Steve and Tony shift-

“Steve...” Tony warned, cocking his jaw, “I-I think we should get Bucky’s hands checked out.”  
Hands Bucky thought, he was still laughing like a loom and was pretty sure he’d just lost his mind, he didn’t give a flying fuck about his hands.

“Why are you laughing?” Steve snapped, ignoring Tony’s suggestion.

“You, trying to take the high ground, you suffocated a helpless man in his bed.”

Tony flinched, but Steve didn’t react, didn’t even spare a glance to his stunned colleague. He rocked back on his heels before flicking his head towards Tony.

“I need to get back, Tony will help you out.” Steve said, nodding to himself, “as I said before, you need anything, you know where we are...”

“Steve,” Tony hissed and the heaving man paused at the door, “don’t take things too far..in there...”

Steve turned, not glancing Bucky’s way but staring daggers at Tony, “I know what I’m doing...”

“Just,” Tony rocked back at the intimidating waves coming his way, “ease off yeah...”

“Everything’s going how I want it to....”

He spun on his heel, leaving Bucky to frown at the loaded conversation he’d witnessed, Tony walked away, scrubbing a palm down his face.

“Hands...need to get someone to look at those hands of yours...”  
It was late, he had no where to go and when Tony led him to the level with hospital bed’s he went like a dog on its leash.

“Stay here tonight, we’ll change your bandages, give you a plastic covering so you can have a shower.”

“He-he killed a defenceless old man, for no reason.” Bucky whispered, watching as Tony flinched at the words again, “how can you pretend he’s alright, he’s unhinged.”

Tony darted a look over his shoulder before replying, “he’s the most effective leader we’ve got, he’s a national hero...”  
Bucky gripped onto Tony’s arm, best he could with his burning palm, “he drugged me and took me to some cabin-

“We know,” hissed Tony, with another lingering look behind himself, “he’s been focussed on you, giving us all a break. He had to focus on something, stave off all that anger-

“I’m not some hostage to this messed up situation-

“Do us and yourself a favour and do what he wants.”

Bucky threw Tony’s arm away, growling as he did. “he doesn’t want me anymore-

“Seriously....you’re only making it harder on yourself.” Tony muttered as he passed back through the door.

Bucky frowned at his feet, not understanding what Tony meant, his life was falling apart in every area, and the pit he was tumbling into had no light at the top, nothing to aim for.

 

A nurse led Bucky to a lavish apartment, she breezed through the room, describing what was behind each door without even looking at Bucky once.

A pile of clothes sat on the couch, Bucky glared at them, the note on the top said they were spares of Steve’s. The scent that lifted from the fabric confirmed it and Bucky sunk down in the cushions with his lip wobbling.

He didn’t put them on, preferred the stale scent of smoke to the tempting smell of Steve. He stumbled into the lavish shower, picturing the small one in the cabin, Steve’s arms holding him up and washing his skin, scratching his nails along his scalp and making him shudder and moan softly.

The body wash smelled exactly like the one Steve used, masculine and rich. Before he could force his mind to a stop, he thought about Steve touching him, he ran his bagged up hand over his ass, where the red lines had been. He thought about Steve driving into him, his warm hand around his cock. He bit his lip in frustration when his hand touched his cock, hard and needing. He couldn’t get himself off, he tried, but there wasn’t enough friction, not the right tightness around his flesh. 

The only relief was to hump the tiles like an animal, slide against the cool surface until he came on them with a shudder, unsatisfied it didn’t feel as good as what Steve did to him, not by a long shot.

He was being tortured my the lack of Steve, the smell, the clothes, just knowing he was still in the same building, it all drove Bucky crazy and he sunk his teeth into his bruised knuckles to muffle his scream. Laying in the lavish bedroom, Bucky watched the door in silent hope. He was actually hopeful Steve would appear and ravage him, tell Bucky in that aggressive voice he belonged to Steve, but it didn’t happen, yet again...

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

He’d gone mad, maybe even as crazy as Steve, but he has to see him, has to ask why he was no longer wanted, had to understand how he had been desired like that and then nothing the next day.  
Steve opened the door on the third tap, eye’s widening with surprise.  
Bucky gawped, Steve was dressed in a pressed grey shirt, tight black pants and tie.

“I’m heading out.”

Bucky stuttered for something to say, staring at Steve’s chest, muscles still viewable through the material. His hand shot up, carding through his blonde hair as he waited for Bucky to speak, all Bucky could think about was how those hands had been in his hair, clutching desperately at his skin when he was sweaty from sex.

“Bucky...you want something?”

Steve was leaning forward slightly, his voice had taken on the authoritive tone that made Bucky shiver. The atmosphere between them was charged, Bucky couldn’t help but instinctively tilt his head up, focus drawn to Steve’s pink lips.  
He wanted to kiss him, he wanted to wrap his arm around him and pull him down, he wanted Steve to lose control and drag him into his apartment, throw him over the couch and take him bare.

He snapped to his senses just as he started to inch closer, he stumbled back on his feet.  
“I...urmmm...”

“Bucky...is there something you want...you’re making me kinda late...”

Steve tugged the sleeve of his shirt down, tapping his watch to emphasise his point.

“Where ya going?” He blurted, relieved his brain had managed to function enough to speak.

Steve flattening his tie with a lopsided smile, “Oh, a date actually...Sharon, going to try that burger place you said about.”  
The pain in his chest ached, a sinking sensation that dropped down to Bucky’s feet. He felt the heat in his eye’s, the pressure of stinging tears becoming too much and dropping free.

“Do you think I’m hot?” Steve asked, the same question and tone from there first time in the cabin. He pressed his hands along the shirt, gliding effortlessly over his stack of muscles.

Bucky swallowed. A yes breathed through his lips, not accompanied by the pleasurable burst, but another hollow one, right in the centre of his chest

“I’ll ask you one last time Buck...is there something you want?”

“N-No...”

Steve rocked back on his heels, his disappointment was schooled so quickly into disinterest Bucky didn’t register it. All he saw was Steve unaffected by his tragic state, puffing impatiently wanting to be out on his date.

They were both in the corridor, the elevator at the end dinged and the doors opened revealing a grinning Sharon, her face dropped when she linked eyes with Bucky.

Steve moved closer, chest pressing against Bucky’s and the traitorous hope and want flared, Bucky’s skin prickled pleasantly at the memory of Steve’s hands against his flesh.

“Steve...”Sharon hissed.

The smug smile stretched Steve’s lips and Bucky shut his eyes expectantly, offering himself for Steve. Nothing happened, a breeze of air tickled his face and when he opened his eye’s Steve was strolling down the corridor, walking into the elevator.

“Sorry ‘m late Sharon...”

Steve didn’t turn back, didn’t see as Bucky sunk to the floor, Sharon did, smiling ear to ear.

 

The hollowness consumed him, he felt distant and detached from reality, he was aware Tony had appeared at some point, clicking his fingers in front of Bucky’s eyes when he had rooted to the floor. 

“Come on...lets sort you out...”

He let Tony tug him up, followed him absentmindedly eyeing the floor, when full-consciousness came back he was sat on a stool, in what looked like a workshop.

“Where-where am I?”

Tony clapped his hands together in relief, “good, your back in the land of the living....not sure what that was but boy did it freak me out...”  
Bucky coughed awkwardly, trying his best not to think about how pathetic he must’ve looked collapsing in the corridor-

“My lab...”Tony answered, throwing out his arms to his sides.  
Bucky got to his feet slowly, still woozy from the corridor, he circled the room, staring at many of the objects in disbelief, some looked like they weren’t even earthy. The chair in the centre got Bucky’s attention and he stumbled over to it.

“Wha-what’s this?”

Tony scratched his head uncomfortably, “remember I said about the whole brain washing plan...we’ll that’s the chair....”  
Bucky sat on the edge before swinging his legs up and tilting back, the positioning and the lamp above his head made him feel like he was at the dentist.

“So how’s it work...”  
Tony jumped over, fingers pointing enthusiastically at the machine, “mouth guard, these bits close on your head, straps to hold your arms an torso still and then....”

Bucky waited but Tony didn’t continue till he coaxed it, “and then?”

“Pain...destroys brain cells rapidly, memory...leaves a blank canvas as far as we can tell...”

“This thing make you feel nothing? Remember nothing?”

Bucky wondered whether his dazed voice had alerted Tony to his troubled state, the avenger, clamped his hand to Bucky’s knee.

“Hey, things seem shit now, but they’ll get better, gotta hang in there...”

The concerned eyes on him made Bucky swallow uncomfortably, he shot what he hoped was a reassuring smile but probably was more of a grimace. Things weren’t going to get better, he knew that, not if he stayed in New York...

“What’s that?” He flicked his head towards one of the computer screens and Tony rushed over.

“The cabin...”  
Bucky climbed out the chair, making his way over faking interest in what Tony was babbling about, all he wanted was the address, to know where Steve had taken him. Once it was on screen he burned it to memory.

“Thanks...for everything...” He said to Tony who was still in mid lecture.

“Errrr, no problem-

“Think I’m gunna go rest...”

Tony nodded and Bucky swore he looked relieved, he plodded through the avengers tower, but instead of returning to his room he walked out the front door.

His house was a chard mess, police tape was stuck to his blackened front door, one peek inside the open window and he knew nothing of interest was salvageable, all the photographs were gone, he doubted any of his clothes had survived and even if they had, he didn’t want to smell of smoke.

His one last possession was his shitty car, still parked outside his ruined house. It coughed and spluttered but eventually after threatening to bail on him, it started.

Driving with a stiff hand, and unbending fingers wasn’t easy, but Bucky was determined, he needed to see the cabin, visit the place where his life had been turned upside down, the place he had been so foolish to fall for a deranged man.

The drive was tortuous, his hands ached, fingers throbbed, wrist pinched, but the pain kept him awake and focussed, without it, he would’ve likely fallen asleep and crashed. The cabin, that was his target, he didn’t know what he was going to do afterwards, but knew he wouldn’t be returning to New York.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________

Part of the roof had collapsed, the walls were dotted with puncture wounds letting the light slip inside. Bucky flicked a switch and the unbroken lights flickered on, spat out brightness before dulling and fading out.

The place was in ruin, great chunks of wood and glass from blown out windows everywhere, it was a reflection on himself, a poetic conclusion, he was now a wreck like the cabin, Steve’s love nest he no longer wanted to use.

Bucky stumbled into the kitchen, tugging a cupboard open and shoving out the contents, crackers, chips with frustrating packages that Bucky had to smash into the floor to pop them open. Scrambling about in the cupboard he laughed bitterly when he retrieved a bottle of whiskey, his favourite brand, Steve must’ve known...the cap was still sealed, which made Bucky whine in frustration, he couldn’t open it, mind numbing relief was right there and he couldn’t even indulge in it.

Growling he shoved the neck of it between his teeth, gripped down and twisting till he was sure his teeth would break. He managed to open it, spitting the cap out across the room and taking a gulp full. There were too many memory’s inside the cabin, the one that crept up and hurt the most was picturing himself wrapped up with Steve in front of the fire, the soothing calm after sex, cuddle and snuggles with warm flesh and soft hands.

He huffed walking his way out the door towards the tree, the one he’d been nailed to. Two slits stood out, the pale bark was stained a reddish brown from his leaking limbs. 

He slumped to the bottom, finally letting his exhausted body sink, merge down into the dirt.  
He sat, staring out at the woods taking casual swigs of the bottle. 

A roar had him flicking his gaze over his shoulder. A bike rode up, unceremoniously dumped in front of the cabin. Then his name was being shouted, the tone bordering pleading, desperate. Bucky thumped his traitor of a heart, hating its response to its masters call.

“Bucky?!”  
He didn’t answer, didn’t want to relax Steve, having his name said with such panic was strangely satisfying.

The door burst off the hinges, smashing into the ground, then an earth-shaking roar echoed into the woods. A pained howl that made Bucky chuckle, not want to sooth the obviously distressed person but to relish in their misfortune.

Steve jogged towards him and Bucky eyed the bottle in-between his thighs, wondering if Steve had laced it with hallucinogen’s.  
“Hell, Buck!”  
Steve continued his rush over and Bucky shoulder nudged his way back up the tree, marvelling in the way his vision swam. It really was strong whiskey.

“Why-why the hell would you leave like that?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at the slowing Steve, doing his best to channel all his anger down the look, but there were three of Steve, and not knowing quite where to look he glared at each of them in turn.

“Fuck you!” Bucky managed, but was sure he had said the words the wrong way round.

Steve growled, reaching his hand out which Bucky batted away with his cast, “don’t you touch me!”  
“This again...if you had just of asked me to, we wouldn’t be here,” Steve abruptly turned, spinning and smashing his fist into the trunk of a tree, “so goddamn stubborn!”

Bucky’s jaw hung open as he watched Steve assault a tree, he snapped it shut after a few attempts before blurting out a ‘what?”

Steve turned with fire in his eyes targeting Bucky propped against the trunk, “you! You only had to say it, only had to ask for me an I would’ve been there...this” a rage shaking finger was pointed at Bucky’s heart, “this is self inflicted, you feeling like this is your fault not mine.”

“You said you didn’t want me...”

Steve’s palm slapped into his face, “Stubborn and an Idiot too.”

“You said- said it was an infatuation...a coping mechanism...”

Steve’s hand had stayed plastered to his face as he growled words Bucky couldn’t quite hear.  
“I lied...a stupid plan...everything I said in the tower was a lie” he said finally and Bucky stared at his lips as they said the words again, brain beginning to turn.

“Why?” the word clogged in his throat when he spoke it.

Steve shrugged, an the lack of a verbal answer had Bucky seething, had him sobering up like a brutal slap. Bucky charged at him, ducking his stance to tackle Steve in the chest, the air whooshed out of his lungs and he landed on the ground with a thump.  
They were on the exact spot Steve had battered a man to death, but this time it was Bucky straddling Steve, raining his fists down on his chest, weakened punches which were doing more to hurt himself than the man beneath.

“I needed you Steve everything’s turned to shit, and I needed you!”

Steve shook his head and the confused expression on his face made Bucky swing another pathetic punch at his pec.

“I needed you...” he stopped and sobbed it into Steve’s chest.

“You only had to ask...”

“Is this all a game to you? Am I a game...I don’t want to play this anymore.”

Drops of tears were running down his face, snagging on his jaw and collecting till they splodged big on Steve’s Shirt.  
All the confidence and anger had gone from the avenger, he glared up with massive blue eyes and a sorry-full expression.

“I miscalculated...I thought-I dunno okay...”

Bucky dropped his head onto Steve’s shoulder giggling like a maniac, “miscalculated? I’m not one of your missions, I’m a person-

“I knew you wanted me, I just wanted to hear you ask, hear you say it...and now you are, so it kinda worked out in the end...”

Bucky swung back, wanting to throw another hit but this time at Steve’s perfect face, one messed up hand braced on his chest, he pulled the other up, stared straight into Steve’s eyes, curled back his lip and...couldn’t do it.  
He didn’t want to punch him, he moved both hands to steady himself on Steve’s body, still sobbing an sniffing.

“Some asshole had nailed me to a tree, and you were still thinking about playing games with me, my life’s fallen apart and you’re screwing with my head, enough Steve, your tearing me apart, I can’t think, either have me or don’t, but no more playing games...”

“I want you, always want you...but do you want me?”

Bucky was pretty sure he started the kiss, but Steve clamped his hands round Bucky’s head scared he’d pull back from it, regret it. There was no way, kissing Steve felt too good, tasted too good and every groan from Steve vibrated both their tongues and spurred Bucky on.

All the sexual confidence Steve had shown melted away when it came to kissing, the battle of lips and tongue Bucky was clearly winning. Dancing his tongue along Steve more sluggish one, sucking Steve’s lips till they plumped reddened. The grip on the back of his head was bordering painful, but knowing Steve was that terrified it would stop, did odd things to Bucky’s stomach, made it flutter and lightened.

He pulled back and Steve stared up at him dazed, as if the kiss had intoxicated him. His expression was needy desperate, and Bucky wondered whether he had looked like that when Steve was having him. The fingers in Bucky’s hair tightened, force was applied to pull him back down into another toe curling kiss.

Every sound Steve made was flooding Bucky’s mind with desire, he wanted to caress and taste all of him, map out his body with his mouth and hands. He was still angry, upset, but Steve was there, offering himself like a willing sacrifice. He hated Steve but desired him a little bit more.

Bucky whined in his throat with his failed attempt at opening Steve’s shirt, the buttons were to fiddly, too small for his stiff fingers to work with, it didn’t take long for Steve to take over, grabbing the collar of his shirt and forcing the material apart, buttons and threads flying everywhere.

Bucky pressed his forehead into Steve’s chest and breathed, taking the powerful scent of Steve into his lungs and savouring it. The skin beneath him was hot, smooth, and heaving so much he felt like he was on a seesaw.

He licked enthusiastic lines over the tight stretch of muscles, following the trails and sinking his teeth into the firmer parts. Sucking a nipple hard enough to hurt, but all Steve did was Buck up and groan.  
Teeth picked up the shivers of Steve’s body, the involuntary jerking as he continued to bite his way around, leaving red dents of teeth, never enough force to break the skin, but enough to cover his flawless flesh with imperfect lines.  
Bucky leaned back, taking in the hundreds of red dashes he had marked Steve with, he owned him.

The button of Steve’s pants proved to be another obstacle, and Steve was quick to rectify it, still watching wide eyes and hopeful, pupils sinfully blown. When Steve went to remove his pants and the shorts underneath Bucky growled, nipping the soft flesh of Steve’s belly in a no. He wanted the shorts to stay on, not the pants, but the shorts, like he was unwrapping a present and wasn’t quite ready yet.

He nuzzled Steve through his cotton shorts, brushing his face and cheeks against the tented arousal feverishly, as if it was his own personal version of catnip. The wet patch that had leaked free was Bucky’s first real taste of Steve and he groaned low in his throat when he sucked the material, drawing it into his mouth. Trust Steve to taste so good, he thought half bitterly, half so bloody excited for more.

A dull thud registered and when he flashed his eyes up, he saw Steve was no longer watching, but had flopped to the mud with his head tilted back.  
He licked through the material, wetting the shorts with saliva and pushed them about with his tongue. Steve groaned above him, tossing his head left to right as he moaned and grumbled.  
No longer a small wet patch but a huge damp one all along the outline of Steve’s cock-

“Pleeeease!”  
The neediness was addictive, made Bucky smile and scoot up Steve’s body, remarking Steve’s healed skin with gentle bite marks.

“Please Buck-  
He spied Steve erection, noting it was no longer on the edge of orgasm, had gained back some stamina. He went to town on the bulge, sucking at the material so Steve couldn’t just feel it, but could hear it too, giving as much attention to the head as he could manage through a frustrating millimetre barrier.

The swell of Steve cock told him he was close, bordering the cliff of coming, and when the taste of pre-come became more concentrated he pulled back, moving his attention to Steve’s thighs, which unlike his cock were uncovered.

He bit, sucked, an ran his tongue along the exposed flesh till Steve had gained control back from his impending climax, still howling and begging, fidgeting in the mud.

All the times Steve had done it to him, got him close and denied him, he was returning the favour, pushing Steve towards ecstasy and denying it at the last moment. 

Steve couldn’t speak, could only offer starts of words and loud groans.  
Triumphant, that’s what Bucky felt, he had rendered Steve a quivering mess, sweating and heaving for attention, it felt a small justice after all the shit he’d been put through.

He yanked the pants down and Steve held his breath at the sudden change. Bucky didn’t even have to suck, his warm mouth around the abused cock was enough to set Steve off, have him arching from the floor and gasping as he filled Bucky’s mouth.  
Bucky barely had time to swallow before Steve was yanking his head level and kissing him, giving his mouth a good fucking with his tongue. 

It took a few minutes to work out Steve was pushing the words ‘I’m sorry’ into his mouth.

He mumbled them, kept kissing and not giving Bucky a chance to reply.  
“I’m sorry...”

Bucky resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but Steve saw he didn’t believe the words.

“I am...I’m sorry...I get it okay...” Steve darted a look towards the tree and Bucky followed his gaze, “I messed up...I-

“Am an asshole...”Bucky supplied helpfully.

Steve narrowed his eyes, “I was impatient...just needed you to admit you wanted me too.” 

“I did want you...no...I needed you, but you can't do that, can't shut me down like that-

He had needed the post orgasm Steve, the sweet touches and the comforting embraces, it felt weak admitting it, but it was true. Wrong to want them from someone as unhinged at Steve, but there was no denying it, he couldn’t fight with his own head anymore, especially when the whole world seemed to be waging war on him.

“I won’t fuck up again.”  
There was such a dart intensity to Steve’s stare Bucky couldn’t even think of something to say, mesmerised by the vow Steve was making.

Steve dived down to resume their touch of mouths, slower and more sensual, their legs tangled as they rolled on the blood tainted soil, Steve became desperate to undress Bucky, to have him completely naked, removing his own clothes till they both rolled on the mud covered floor completely bare. Kissing and touching with no hesitation.

Steve hauled Bucky up, backing him to the tree and slotting their mouths together once again.

“No more games.” Bucky gasped.

Steve nodded, resuming their kiss and pushing an echo of the words back into Bucky’s mouth.

Steve parted his cheeks, ran a nail over his hole suggestively.  
He didn’t continue and Bucky battled to open his eyes and frown questioningly.  
He got a frown in reply and a flick of Steve’s head, Bucky then realised Steve was asking if he could continue.

“Fuck yes!”

Bucky ducked forward and sunk his teeth into Steve’s lip, making him jerk and yelp. There was a time for gentle, usually after sex, but right then Bucky needed Steve to have him, blank his mind and fill it with waves of pleasure.  
Steve got the hint, spit as lube and entered Bucky with his fingers, curling and twisting, each motion Bucky mimicked with his tongue in Steve’s mouth, making the other man grown and lose concentration. Bucky felt a wave of power robbing Steve’s focus with his skilful tongue.

Steve couldn’t wait, hauled Bucky up the tree and positioned himself, Bucky instinctively threw his arms around Steve’s neck, tensing his biceps to keep the position, to hold on.  
Steve fucked him with wild abandonment, spearing his hole hot and fast and Bucky loved it, needed the stretch, needed Steve consuming him, surrounding him and inside of him, a hand got between them, and Steve was stroking him in time with the thrusting.

“Mine...” Steve growled, and that was all Bucky needed to come, to spill himself against Steve’s chest, heaving and twitching.

When Steve reached his climax, delving deep, Bucky clenched his body down, driving Steve a little bit further till he was gasping and clutching at the tree stay upright.

“And you’re mine too.” He said before attacking Steve’s mouth with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably won't post till after new year if ya'll still interested.  
> Next chapter will be from Steves head space, and no where near as heavy as this chapter...I'm anticipating sex for his chapter...an hopefully a slightly happier Bucky....


	9. Part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crazy Steve and Ice play...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a great new years! may 2017 bring you endless happiness!
> 
> I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing, but two weeks not doing any and Im suddenly stumped!
> 
> Unbeta'd, mistakes painfully mine.
> 
> Thank you so much for comments and kudos, really means the world.
> 
> This chapters from Steve's side of events.
> 
> Steve is...complicated...
> 
> Warning for ice-play (not loads but just thought I'd mention it)

Stubborn, it was the best word Steve could think of to describe Bucky. There was the more obvious words, sexy, ridiculously attractive, occasionally affectionate, oh and pleasurable, both giving and receiving, but the one word that rattled through Steve’s head the most was stubborn.

“Get on the bike...”

Steve’s watched the moment in Bucky’s eyes, the submissive step towards the bike before he stilled and narrowed his eyes, “No, I’ll follow you.”

Steve huffed to himself as Bucky stalked back to his car, climbing inside the vehicle and slamming the door shut. 

That stubbornness that ran through his veins was one of the surprisingly attractive quality’s. Most people bowed to captain America with their worshiping praise, the avengers swallowed nervously and tripped over their own feet to be free of his gaze, but Bucky, stared straight into it, defied it, if only for a little while, and it was so bloody refreshing it made Steve smile, made his heart flutter instead of drone on and on.

Steve startled to awareness when Bucky honked the horn, he didn’t know he was staring, caught up in his own mind. He flicked his head and they were off, leaving the woods and the destroyed cabin behind. 

 

Stupid, he had been utterly stupid, had pushed too hard, almost to the point of losing Bucky and he was not planning on forgiving himself anytime soon. It was bad enough what happened in the woods with Hydra, Bucky had been hurt, caught in the crossfire. He’d failed in his vow of not letting anyone hurt him, twenty-four hours after he had sworn those words, someone had. Steve wished he could bring the man back to life, just so he could kill him again, in more creative ways. One death was not enough for a man like that, he deserved to burn forever for touching Bucky.

But then he had made everything worse, ignored his own plan of owning Bucky and followed Sharon’s. On paper it had made sense, block Bucky out till he sought him, but Steve should’ve realised that the stubbornness he admired would prevent him from seeking Steve.  
Not Sharon’s fault, but his, he should’ve known. 

He gripped the bike harder, the metal twisting as the waves of anger threatened to consume him. Anger and fury led to inevitable death. He had to stop, calm himself, otherwise all the motorists on the road were going to experience a whole other level of road rage. 

He hated hydra, hated that he almost lost Bucky, twice, one time being his fault directly.  
He held his arm out for Bucky to see he was pulling over, and relief flooded him when he heard the sound of the car slowing.

The bike got propped up in the layby, Bucky’s parked behind him with a face of scrunched confusion. Steve ignored him, trying to push away the violence in his mind, the smell of blood, the gurgle of fluid, he had experienced far too much of it, has grown to love it, but he had to curve it, he couldn’t just start killing anyone, only the people he was supposed to kill, the ones the avengers needed him to, or the ones that got too close to Bucky.

The car door opened behind and Bucky released a long sigh, Steve couldn’t face him, couldn’t twist round and look his way with the swirl of violence so prominent in his mind. There was a lot Bucky knew, but a lot he didn’t and they’d just got a thread of understanding and acceptance and Steve couldn’t bare to break.

“What is it, why we stopping?”

“Just wait.” Steve growled the words, pointing his hand behind his back in a clear sign of stay the hell where you are. 

The footsteps continued on the gravel and Steve rolled his eyes at the stubbornness.  
Steve finally turned to see his approach, Bucky coming to him with worry in his face, he was right to be worried Steve thought bitterly, he was right to be wary, but it didn’t stop Bucky coming towards him. Steve didn’t react, standing deathly still and staring, it usually intimidated the hell out of everyone, but not Bucky, who advanced at a quicker pace, steaming into Steve’s personal space-

“Steve what is it?”

There was fear, Steve expected it, but he was surprised that it wasn’t directed his way, the opposite, Steve realised with another flutter in his chest that Bucky was worried for him, wondering what had spooked him. His brown strands flapped in the wind as he whipped his head round for clues of Steve’s frozen state.

His death stares usually required everyone to vacate the vicinity, Tony leaving him to work out his fury on running machines, punching bags and occasionally the odd prisoner of hydra they need to spill secrets and blood.

“What wrong?”

Bucky’s voice was distant, as if it was forcing its way through distorted bubbles to get to him, there was pressure on Steve’s face, Bucky’s hands trying to grip onto his jaw, but the sensation wasn’t soft flesh, but the scratch of material from his bound hands, it reminded Steve of his injuries, that man pushing Bucky into the tree and trying to force himself between his legs.

Air puffed out of Steve’s nose like an angry bull, he needed his punch bag, needed to smash the shit out of it till his knuckles bled. 

Then Bucky leaned that extra few centimetres and Steve’s breath staggered. It was a gentle kiss, almost like Bucky was asking permission, which nearly made Steve laugh hysterically, because he would never deny Bucky a kiss.

Kissing was something Bucky gave to him, denied it for so long but made the final move. It’s sacred, special and Bucky is so bloody good at it, it makes Steve feel inferior only for a moment, makes an edge of spiky jealousy rare up. He got that good from kissing other people, practicing on them.

The thought made Steve growl, gripping Bucky’s hips harder, but a few twirls of Bucky’s tongue, the taste invading his mouth pushed any jealousy away. Others may’ve kissed Bucky but he’d be the last, last to have him in everyway.

kissing Bucky was like eating chocolate, it was indecisive for Steve, between wanting to leisurely suck and taste his sweet favour, to devouring him, eating him all up and ravishing. Luckily, Bucky wasn’t made from chocolate, he was a person, with an infinite supply of kisses that Steve had got the green light to, he could savour his mouth, or wage war on it till his soft lips puff up.  
He could do either, but didn’t particularly want to do them on the side of the road.

“Get on the bike.”

Steve watched Bucky intently, the spark of pride igniting. He knew Bucky would refuse, his feet started turning back towards the car.

“Please Bucky...Your hands, it will be safer on the bike...”

It was true, but the weakness in his voice wasn’t. He could’ve easily forced Bucky onto the bike, tied his arms round his chest, knocked him out, but Bucky responded to that weakness, because Bucky was good. It was one of the reason Steve fell for him. Bucky didn't like suffering, he was soothing and reassuring without any conscious effort.

He’d used the tone twice before, once at Peggys funeral, the most pathetic voice he could muster while gripping on to Bucky, the second time in the woods, when he had no idea where Bucky was hiding but knew he was a sucker for Steve in distress.

Steve’s wasn’t sure it would work the third time, but he tried anyway. Bucky darted one hard look at his car before nodding the once.  
Steve hid his triumphant smile under a cough and swung his leg over the bike and waited for Bucky to do the same.

“What about the car?”

“Tony’ll get someone to get it...”

Steve wasn’t planning on asking Tony, the car would stay abandoned on the side of the road. Bucky wouldn’t need it in the tower now he was going to live with Steve.

Bucky managed to stay clinging on the rest of the drive, front pressed snuggly to Steve’s shirt and head dopy against Steve’s shoulder blade. The weight was comforting, but several times on the ride Steve had to whip his head round to check Bucky was alright. Barely awake, but clinging on.

Swinging the bike into the tower, Steve offered his hand to help Bucky off, once he had the damaged limb in his grip he tugged lightly and Bucky followed with dragging feet.  
“Up to our apartment.”

Bucky’s eyes twitched, and his face morphed into one of surprise. Steve couldn’t help but smile, noting with a hint of happiness Bucky’s feet weren’t catching on the carpet anymore.

Bucky was exhausted and as much as Steve wanted to ravish him in his own bed, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He tucked him in instead, watching fondly as Bucky nuzzled the pillow that he knew smelled like him.

“Sleep...”  
Big greying eyes watched him questioningly and Steve shot a reassuring smile, “sleep...I’ll be joining you soon.”

A brightness sparked in Bucky’s face, followed by a glance of wariness. They had a lot to talk about, but rest was essential. Steve smiled as Bucky dropped back into the pillow, breathing slower while Steve hovered over, apparently him keeping vigil didn’t creep Bucky out.

There was a knock on the door and Steve sighed creeping out of the bedroom so not to disturb his dozing beauty.

Tony backed up at step when he answered the door, fixing his eyes to Steve’s feet.  
“Yeah, erm...got a problem...”

Steve exhaled slowly, he didn’t want to deal with any shit, he wanted to crawl into bed with his prize, not hunt down some hydra agents or slaughter some other whack job.

He crossed his arms radiating his irritation, “What?”

“Brock...he’s been arrested...”

Steve rolled his eyes at Tony’s shifting, grumbled unhappily at the supposedly ‘clever’ man wasting his time when there was more important things to do like climb in bed and encase Bucky’s warm body with his own.  
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me...”

“Yeah...he’ll get out on bail, Steve...I’m not sure about any of this, we can’t-we can’t just let him get charged when we know he didn’t do it-

Steve could feel the prickle of a migraine, the ache right between his eyes, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with a huff of air.  
“His face...his face did it.”

“A mask, a high-tech cloaking device, Steve he’s an innocent man.”

Steve couldn’t stop the escaping growl, Brock wasn’t innocent, he’d had Bucky to himself, took something of Steve’s, and if it wasn’t for him saving Bucky’s life, he would’ve dealt with him in other ways.

“Steve...lets just pay the owners off, make this go away quietly, let Brock move on...you got what you wanted...”

He couldn’t disagree with that, he finally got what he wanted and needed and Tony was stopping him from experiencing it. A conscious was something Steve thanked the lord he wasn’t cursed with.  
“Your cloaking device, your tampering with his police files, just remember that Tony, turn your back on me and it’ll get messy, then after the mess I’ll clear you up, and that’s not a good thing.”

Steve snorted at Tony’s edging feet, backing away without being aware of it.  
“Okay...just thought I’d let you know-

“I knew...who do you think sent them the CCTV...”

Tony gulped and continued his backwards walk down the corridor. Steve didn’t break eye contact till the elevator door forced him to.

 

Bucky snored softly, lids firmly shut with no flinching, no confliction. Steve removed his clothing, all while keeping his eyes fixed on his sleeping beauty. Pants off, socks off, he crawled under the sheets, making his way towards the sleeping man, as soon as his skin skimmed Bucky the brunette rolled, pressing himself into Steve’s body and breathing deep.

In the list of thing’s Steve wasn’t expecting, this was near the top. Bucky was affectionate in the mists of sleep, needing contact, even their first time in the cabin when he was doped to his eyeballs, he whined softly if Steve tried to leave. His hands had been bound, but Steve managed to press up to him enough to aid his slumber.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning skittish Bucky was back, sat at the kitchen table as if he didn’t belong, as if he’s waiting for something. Steve rolled his eyes when Bucky anayalsyed a glass of water with suspision.

“Come,” Steve said as he stood, “I think we should teach you some moves.”

Bucky dropped his spoon back into his bowl. Slopping milk everywhere, “what-what moves?”

“Self-defence, just in case you need to efficiently stop someone.”

Bucky shuddered at the suggestion before stirring his spoon in his unwanted cereal, “more people like the ones in the wood...there’s no point, he was stronger, faster-

“I don’t mean Hydra, you don’t have to worry about them, we’re hunting them down and none of them will be left, self defence for Brock.”

Steve watched the adams apple in Bucky’s throat bob uncomfortably, “Brock?”

“In case he attacks you...”

Bucky froze, hurt expression flickering on his brow, “He-he won’t.”

“Did you not see his file?”

Bucky sunk lower, eyes tracking the floor between them, no doubt remembering the rubbish Steve put together. In reality Brock had been involved in two very miner scuffles, but Tony was a whiz on the computer and a few lingering glares from Steve and he agreed to make the fake felonies, the disturbing story’s of a homophobic bully.

“’course I saw it....”

“Well then...got to be ready just in case he try’s anything.”

The texts Bucky had been receiving had a threatening undertone, not direct, Steve knew because he was the one sending them, making them steadily worse. Visitors to the tower always give their phone in at reception, it didn’t take much bribery to get the staff to deny Brock handed over his phone. Crushed from devastation he didn’t question it, just scampered off home with his tale between his legs. 

Steve needed Bucky to be wary of Brock, strike out before the other man got a chance to talk. If he got what he wished Bucky would never go near him again, run a mile if he bumped into him.

“Self-defence...for my peace of mind...”

Bucky nodded just the once, Steve didn’t need to glance over his shoulder to know he was trailing behind, following out the apartment door and into the elevator.

 

Teaching Bucky moves was difficult but not for the expected reason. Strapped up hands left him nothing but flailing limbs, but even they weren’t hindering progress. Steve’s raging hormones were the problem, as soon as a drop of sweat beaded in Bucky’s hair he had to have him, naked and sweaty on the floor.

Bucky with perspiration, panting and looking worn out was too much to handle and Steve couldn’t stop touching, couldn’t stop kissing and grinding against. Defiantly not what he wanted Bucky to do if he saw Brock again.  
With come splattered on Bucky’s bare-chest, heaving on the mat below, Steve finally realised he wasn’t the best suited to train Bucky.

“Natasha...I’ll get her to show you some moves...”

“Not now though right?”

Steve stared down at the naked man, only clothing a veil of come over his chest, he couldn’t look anymore perfect.

“No, not right now....I think we need to christen my bed....”  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Sex was amazing, passionate and messy, Bucky didn’t hold back anymore and a warm orb of happiness glowed in Steve’s chest, but outside of Sex Bucky was guarded, sitting with a straight back and tensed body. Waiting, but Steve’s wasn’t sure what for.

He needed the wall Bucky built around himself to fall, needed to get inside and have him all. Its an obsession to gain his trust and love. And three days on from the cabin he’s struggling. Bucky was under the impression he would be a prisoner, and even the reassurance from Steve didn’t work.

Bucky was free to do as he pleased, go back to work when he was ready, as long as he came back to the tower and lived in Steve’s apartment, as long as he had no relations with anyone else ever. Steve didn’t want a sex slave, if that had been the case he would’ve chained Bucky up at the cabin and not have let him go. He wanted more, and he’d get it, even if he had to be a devious bastard to do so.

A text, that’s grotesque and without a doubt threatening from Brock Rumlow, Steve sent it from the bathroom and waited, he heard the chirp of Bucky’s phone, waited twenty seconds or so for Bucky to read it once and read it again, then left the bathroom.  
He didn’t get what he was expecting, Bucky scurried to shove his phone back in his pocket, face white and eyes darting, but not seeking comfort like he did when he got stolen by sleep.

“You alright?”

No verbal reply but a swift nod and a glance away. Steve stalked into the kitchen out of Bucky’s eye line, tapping his finger on the marble and thinking. The threat wasn’t enough, wasn’t explicit, maybe a photo-threat would work better he wondered, a baseball bat or an axe-

“Why do they always make them plain and white?”  
It took a few seconds for Steve to realise Bucky spoke, but the more he repeated the statement in his head the less he thought he heard it.  
“What?”

“The casts,” Bucky held his arm high, “why not patterns or pictures?”

Steve sighed, half annoyed his plan didn’t work, half relieved Bucky chose to speak to him anyway. He didn’t want Bucky to withdraw even further.

“That’s what’s bothering you...”

“Just don’t like looking at it thas all...”

It took Steve a few minutes to search through the kitchen drawers, but eventually his hands swiped at a box of pens.  
“Bothers you that much, then I’ll sort it...”

Steve didn’t miss the way Bucky tensed when he collapsed on the couch next to him. He encouraged Bucky to twist round, bringing his knees onto the couch and Steve mimicked the position. Both sat kneeling towards each other.

“What you gunna draw? Please not a cock an balls...”

Steve smirked and there was relief in his chest when he saw Bucky’s smiling too, a shy one, but still an upwards lift of lips.  
“No cock and balls.. I promise...”

Steve was raring to get started when he feels the weight of Bucky’s curiosity, he’s watching unblinking at the pen against his cast. As soon as Steve felt that added pressure, he couldn’t draw, couldn’t think of what to do, was pretty sure he was glowing red like a tomato with an emotion close to embarrassment.

“You have to look away.” He growled, Bucky retreated and Steve quickly gripped his hand, “don’t ruin the surprise.”

Bucky shot him a wary look before staring at the off TV. There was a reflection of them, but not an angle that Bucky could see the drawing.

Steve sketched at first, deciding on an animal, a wolf to be exact, close up side profile of the face. Bucky didn’t like bland, so Steve used bight colours, all the ones in the rainbow. Time slowed, and all he was aware of was the scratch of the pen, the soft breaths of the man sat in front.

“Wait, don’t look, I’ll be right back.”

He fled to the kitchen, sliding the contents of the drawer out the way, a paint brush. A cup of water, he filled slowly not wanting to destroy the relaxed aura by blasting the tap on.

The colourful wolf was then traced with a water-wet paint brush, letting the colours run in lines down Bucky’s arm. Colour dripped onto the couch but Steve didn’t care, he was in the zone.  
Sketching, painting. Those activities calmed the war in Steve’s head. There was nothing but the swirl of colour and the creation of art, no killing, no expectations, Steve was free to do as he pleased and it was as close to peace as he was ever going to get.

“It’s-it’s...beautiful.”

Bucky’s gazed in awe, an honesty and pureness to the look that made Steve’s insides lightened, his body fill with helium. No walls, not guarded, all bright and amazed and Steve wanted him to look at him like that forever.

“’s nothing.” Steve muttered and was shocked by his own lack of words, his mind had been wiped by Bucky’s amazement, the look of astonishment directed his way. It rendered Steve useless, the plotting and plans of winning Bucky’s love dissolved away to nothing, it was right there and he stumbled on it by complete accident.

Steve’s mouth flapped, mind struggled and then it didn’t matter, Bucky was kissing him, climbing on to his lap and taking advantage of Steve’s stunned state.

It was a soft kiss, not the destroying of mouths they usually did, but gentle, exploratory and Steve’s mind was blown, body humming with a happiness. The threatening message didn’t bring Bucky to his arms, but Steve expressing himself did. There was no weariness, no suspicion, Bucky was touching him gently, softly, Steve didn’t rush the make out session, he kept the pace nice and slow and let whatever was glowing between them expand and sparkle. This is what he wanted, Bucky’s attention with no undercurrent of negative emotions.

The tap at the door had Steve curling his fists into the couch, he didn’t want to lose this, didn’t know who would be so stupid as to interrupt.

Bucky’s face was blushing red, eyes black and lips plumped up-  
“You gunna get that?”

“No, no I’m not...”

Bucky smirked with crinkled eyes and Steve drew him back, kissing him again, they were in their bubble again, a happy humming bubble and Steve was sure Bucky could feel it too, the feeling that this was meant to be, this was how they should always be.  
The moment was broken by the door crashing open, Sharon fell through and locked eyes on them. Bucky tried to slide away but Steve was too reluctant, he didn’t want the moment to end even if he had the most annoying audience in the world.

“What?” He snapped her way, and that broke the dazed expression on Bucky’s face, he climbed off and retreated to the bedroom hiding his erection as he went.

Steve wasn’t going to spare Sharon the sight of his, legs splayed on the couch with a clear outline of his arousal. It was fast depleting under her gaze.  
“Well?”

Her faces was flushing and there was anger there too, “Remember....tonight, the charity event...”

Steve slapped a hand to his face, “Can’t you find someone else...”

“No, they all think you’re going to be there...I arranged this one especially for you Steve.”

“Auctioning off paintings to the arrogant elite, can’t wait.”

Sharon moved a step closer, “You like art Steve, I know you do, it’s for you. I know you better than anyone.”

Her eyes drifted to the bedroom door and Steve reared up in anger, “Fine, Bucky and I will be there, I’ll smile, I’ll be polite-

“James is not coming too.”

“Oh he is Sharon, if you want me there he will be too.”

She huffed before spinning and marching her way back through the open door.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The auction was everything Steve hated about the world, high-brow men and women with more money than sense, strutting around a room full of paintings not worth the canvas they were painted on.

He sent Sam out with Bucky to find some suitable clothes and when he walked in Steve was stunned. In a fitted suit Bucky was breath-taking. Grey tinted shirt like his eyes making them pop surrounded by the dark frame of his lashes. The art work has nothing on just one of Bucky’s eyes let alone the rest of him.

Bucky stood out awkwardly staying close to Sam who was doing his best to make him comfortable. Bucky smiled at whatever Sam said but Steve knew it wasn’t genuine, and if it was, he would’ve been consumed by jealousy. He wanted Bucky’s smiles all to himself.

Steve snagged the arm of one of the waiters, “see him over there....make sure his glass doesn’t go dry...”

The man nodded and Steve watched him make his way over to Bucky, at first the drink was refused but Steve flicked his head at Sam and he understood the message, patting Bucky’s shoulder and encouraging him to drink. He knew Bucky would feel better if he relaxed, they had a long night ahead of them.

The night was as painfully boring as Steve expected, and every time he went to make his way towards Bucky his arm was gripped and he had to create brain dulling conversations with people he had nothing in common with.

Each time he glanced over to Bucky he was smiling more, genuine smiles and laughs and it was starting to grate on Steve that he wasn’t the one creating them. Sam was, and Natasha, the three of them cackling in amusement.

One lingering stare at Natasha and she understood, taking Sam by the elbow and leading him away.

Bucky on his own was quickly swooped on by a well tailored man, in his fifties, but even so when he gripped Bucky by the arm, Steve had to keep in check his murderous rage, there was nothing sexual in it, had there of been, blood would’ve spilled.

Sharon linked his arm again, and he cursed under his breath. She strutted along beside him and flicked her head at a group they were yet to impressed. Steve went without much protest, they were nearer to Bucky after all.  
Steve zoned out to the chatter of the people around him, just smiled or did a piss poor laugh when Sharon squeezed his arm, his interest was behind. The man speaking to Bucky whose voice had shrilled in annoyance. 

“If I’m honest...” Steve heard Bucky say.

“Please do be honest,” the man growled.

Bucky lifted his glass in salute, “gunna, don’t you worry...all these paintings are overpriced lines and dots.”

“How dare you!”

Bucky huffed giddily, “oh I dare to dare.”

“These are Frinches originals.”

“Frinch? Who’s that, some man that lost the will to live.”

Steve twisted to watch the exchange. The glass in Bucky’s grip sloshed as he pointed at a painting and the man nearly collapsed in shock.

“He’s a genius!” the man exclaimed, puffing up like a peacock.

“Come on, tis paint, cost about 3 bucks and there charging..,” Bucky leaned closer to the painting, staring too long at the price tag,  
“Jesus, Jesus, 10,000-

“Its 100,000, you idiot.”

“I’m an idiot, I’m not wasting money on some splatters on some wall...”

“No taste whatsoever, a drunk, some street rat that snuck its way in here.”

“Street rat?

Steve edged his way forward, ready to pummel the guy to death if it was needed, instead of being offended Bucky barked with laughter, and Steve stopped his rush to the rescue.

Every head in the room was turning towards the commotion, towards the hysterical Bucky and the flaming red man. The audience didn’t put Bucky off his stride, but when his eyes connected with Steve, he stilled. The joy of speaking his mind sapped out of his body and he rocked on his heels once before running.

There was an annoying grip on Steve’s arm and when he looked down at the manicured hand he shrugged it off, Sharon had kept him long enough from Bucky. 

“Leave him!”

“No, I won’t, when you gunna understand that Sharon, I’m not interested in you, I love him.”

He said it loud enough for the masses to hear and scoff at then followed through the door Bucky went.

It didn’t take long to find the crushed looking man, leaning against the wall outside and drumming his forearms to his head.  
Steve caught him when he went to run again, coaxing his face round.

“I’m so sorry, I-I”

“Why you sorry Buck?”

Steve watched the adams apple bob and choke itself as Bucky thought of something to say, “’m not good with alcohol, I shouldn’t drink, I’m sorry I fucked up, ‘m fucked up.”

There were tears in his eyes clinging to his lashes, he brushed his hands best he could through his hair and ruffled it into spikes.  
“But why the hell am I here, I hate this stuff, I hate those people-

There was anger and irritation flowing and Steve just watched in awe. The stubborn Bucky snarled back, fighting against Steve even though he hadn’t spoken.

“I hate those awful paintings-

“Buck-

“I hate people that don’t value others, who think people are beneath them, I hate them, so me fucking up your events is on you, I shouldn’t be here.”

“You didn’t fuck it up, not for me anyway... was kinda funny actually.”

The excessive hair stroking paused and Bucky gaped in Steve’s direction, “Wait..you’r-you’re not mad at me...”

Steve shook his head, lifting his hand to cup Bucky’s face and wipe a few stay tears away with his thumb, “not angry, not mad-

“Not gunna cart me off to some rehab...” Bucky hissed with fire in his eyes.

“Defiantly not,...gunna take you to our apartment and fuck you till you pass out.”

Bucky swayed before laughing, the tone wondrous, tears still followed the call of gravity and flooded his cheeks but he was smiling at the same time.  
“You’re not disappointed in me?”

“Nope...”

“Did...did you hear him call me a street rat?” Bucky didn’t sound sad, he sounded bloody elated at the insult, “Guess you’re the pied piper then...”

“I’ll play on your pipe anytime.”  
Bucky laughed, with his head thrown back beautifully and free, Steve found himself laughing along, same ball of energy glowing in his chest.  
“I suggest you take me home then...”

Steve didn’t miss Bucky calling the apartment home, it made his insides flip and tumble, taking the brunettes hand and dragging him down the pavement towards the tower.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom but at least managed the apartment, the floor of it, but Steve couldn’t wait any longer and Bucky seemed just as eager to get Steve’s clothes off, growling in frustration at his scrambling hands.

Naked they rolled on the floor kissing and touching with gusto, Bucky nipped and marked and they didn’t need words, only communication broken gasps and stroking hands. Something shimmered on the counter and Steve stilled hunching his body over Bucky protectively. A silver bucket he hadn’t placed there.

“What is it?” Bucky huffed into his neck and as much as Steve wanted to continue laying kisses all over his face he couldn’t with a threat in the room.

Steve rolled off and got to his feet, stepping cautiously towards the bucket.

“Jarvis, who put this here?”

“Ms Carter sir, to celebrate after the event.”

Steve lifted the lid to the bottle of champagne surrounded by ice-

“Gunna finish myself of if you take any longer.”

“No you won’t...”

Bucky was leisurely stroking himself, eyes dozily tracking the ceiling. Steve picked the bucket up, settling it on the floor by Bucky’s head.

“Think I’ve had enough booze.” Bucky added with a smile.

“Not after the alcohol, but the ice.”

Bucky’s unsteady eyes paused when he frowned, “the ice-

Steve captured Bucky’s gasp with his mouth when he rubbed the cube on his nipple, circling it till it perked up to attention.  
“Cold?”

“What ‘uck do ya think?”

Steve laughed and gave the other nipple the same attention till Bucky shuddered.

It was a game of hot and cold with Bucky’s nipples, soothing them with his mouth before making them stand up again. Bucky groaned, smacking his head down to the floor hard and sobbing.

“Enough with the nipples.” He managed and Steve shifted up.

“But you like it, don’t you?”

Bucky nodded, before shaking his head, “more, please, nuff teasing.”

“’m just getting started...”

Steve plucked another ice cube from the bucket, sucked on a cube to round the sides before slotting his mouth to Bucky’s open one. Pushing the cube in for Bucky’s to feel and push back.

Their groins were grinding messily against each other, a contrast to there ice swirling tongues. The pre-come was hot on their skin, rubbing and sliding, driving Steve impossibly more insane.

“You gunna play my pipe?”  
Steve laughed against Bucky’s lips before trailing his tongue down.

“No ice.” Bucky breathed quickly and Steve pouted up at him. 

Steve blew his cooled breath on the patches of pre-come before tracing his tongue through the moisture.

“Fuck, please, no more teas-

Steve didn’t let him finish, engulfed his straining hard on with an enthusiastic groan. Steve was deep throating, going to town with the musical accompaniment of Bucky’s moans and groans. Bucky’s desperation was addictive, made Steve’s insides fizzle and jump, he never imagined sex could be that good, that earth shattering. 

He bobbed his head till Bucky verged the cliff of ecstasy then changed to casual strokes of his hand, not enough, never enough for Bucky to come, but he looked so bloody sexy for Steve, spread out and begging.

“Please, Steve, please I-

Steve shifted down, taking a cube of ice in his mouth and softening the edges, he licked at Bucky’s hole with a cool tongue and Bucky shivered violently before gasping a mantra of ‘fucks’.

The coldness didn’t shrivel his hardness, he was still on the edge in Steve’s hands, skin almost to the point of splitting with how full he was, how badly his body needed to come.

The ice was a smooth ball in his mouth and Steve pulled back, taking it out of his mouth and holding it in a pincer grip, rubbing it against the tender flaps of skin of Bucky’s opening.

“Dontcha dare...

“Oh I dare to dare.” Steve goaded, repeating Bucky’s earlier words at the gallery.

He slotted the ice in and it was hungrily swallowed by Bucky’s eager body, he thrashed about as if a jolt of lightning had shot through his body, before Bucky could formulate a verbal response, Steve took his cock in his mouth and bobbed up and down, sucking harder until all that left Bucky’s mouth was a squeak and he was coming, spilling hot come into Steve’s still cool mouth. Bucky’s limbs twitched, his breathing stuttered and hitched and his pulse was ponding so hard Steve could feel it in his stiff cock.

“fuck’s-Cold, s’cold.”

Bucky continued to thrash at the freezing intrusion to his body, Cock empty of come Steve pulled off, Delighting in the panting man, withering beneath him.

“Do summin, please.”

Steve lined himself up, tip to the cold entrance He pushed inside and his own breath was stolen by the cool passage, twitching and squeezing around his cock.

“Fuck-Fuck Bucky-“

Bucky moaned pitifully in reply and Steve kept pushing till he was fully inside, ice melted away but cold flesh still made Bucky shiver and gasp, his eyes had glassed over and his teeth chattered.

It only took two thrusts in the ice tunnel and Steve was coming, making Bucky’s insides hot again, he didn’t pull out even when he finished spurting, he moved till his tip was to Bucky’s entrance and sunk back inside, warming Bucky up who sighed in bliss.

“That better?”

The only response was a grunt and Steve took it as a yes, still moving in and out slowly. He wasn’t done with Bucky, had to have him again, he angled his hips, leaning over Bucky’s body till he was in a press-up pose, forearms flat on the floor either side of Bucky’s head.

“Till you pass out...”

There was a flicker of a smile from Bucky, a dazzled eyed stare before his lids fell shut again.

The movements were deep slow, each shove of Steve’s hips brought Bucky’s lower back off the floor, rocking with the movement. The world melted away, the apocalypse could’ve been going on outside and Steve wouldn’t of cared. A contented aura surrounded them, wrapped them up together, it wasn’t just fucking anymore, this was new territory, meaningful.

“Look at me.” Steve groaned, and Bucky immediately responded to the plea.

The eye contact was intense, made Steve’s stomach tighten, his heart float and an elated breath of a laughter escape him. Bucky smiled back, head tipping back and neck exposed, giving himself up to Steve, to whatever was igniting and burning between them.  
Steve focussed on Bucky’s face, his wrecked mouth puffed up by eager kisses. His cheeks had a stain of red, eyes lashes fluttering with each angled thrust, and the most delicate of noises breezed through his lips, soft moans and gasps. Bucky was hard, and Steve stopped his tortuous thrusts to get the other man off again, spilling him between there chests. Once the edge had been taken off Bucky’s needing body, Steve started up his slow pace again, attention solely on Bucky, so focussed he missed the sound of someone knocking the door.

The door clattered open and Steve pulled his face into a snarl, readying himself to hurl insults at the intruder, but Bucky’s face didn’t change, still blissed and content, unaware that someone had even burst in.

Steve slowed his thrusts to a stop, lips back and eyes deadly, the most intimidating look he could muster for the person frozen in the door way.  
Sharon glared, wide eyed and fearful, scanning the two men on the floor.

“Get out...”Steve hissed.

Something in Bucky’s body changed, the softness, stiffened, his body no longer movable like dough had hardened and his lashes twitched irritably. Steve didn’t want to lose it, have that moment come to an end, he rolled his hips in small circles while making soothing noises and Bucky relaxed back down, melting into the tiles below.

Sharon continued to watch with a gobsmacked impression, seemingly frozen in place. Steve wanted her out, could’ve killed her in that moment for interfering with his and Bucky’s time, but he wasn’t going to move, not to get rid of her anyway.

He was going to carry on regardless of her presence, pushing back into Bucky’s body with deep slow thrusts while she watched.  
He kept going, carried on enjoying Bucky’s body till all that escaped Bucky’s mouth was a puff of air, passed out from Steve fucking him, cock hard again and sticky in-between their body’s. 

Steve grasped Bucky’s chin, tilting his face so Sharon in the door would be able to see.  
“Look how beautiful he is, how perfect, how sexy. He’s all I want, all I’ll ever want.”

He didn’t dart a glance Sharon’s way, but he could feel her still in the room, watching him fuck Bucky into the floor.  
“I love him, everything about him, completely mine.”

He knew he was close, could feel the pinpricks of pleasure intensifying down his cock, he shoved his face to Bucky’s neck and breathed him in as he came, releasing the pressure in his body and filling Bucky up with his come with a victorious groan, he was pretty sure he faded into the depths of unconsciousness to join Bucky.

When he came back from his bliss, brow sticky for sweat and breathing relaxed, he shot a look to the gaping door, Sharon had gone. Steve chuckled, getting to his feet and scooping Bucky up in his arms, he took him to the bedroom, wiping him down with care before climbing under the sheets. He didn’t even need to get near the docile man, he seemed to sense Steve’s body in his unconsciousness and crawled over, collapsing on Steve’s chest, fronts pressed together, the position was perfect, Steve could run his hands all over Bucky’s back and sides, feel the heat of his flesh and breath in the scent of his body. 

Steve hoped Sharon had finally gotten the message, he belonged to Bucky, just as Bucky belonged to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will be updating fornightly so I don't run out of steam. I'm predicting four more parts.  
> Buckys chap will be next  
> then one more Steve  
> Finishing with two Bucky parts.
> 
> Thats what I'm hoping anyway :)


	10. Part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky in the tower with a messed up head...same old...  
> Bucky and Steve.  
> Unbeta's mistakes are mine.  
> Huge big thanks for Kudos and comments :) x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blaming my lack of motivation on it being January...  
> If the editing is below par, I'm sorry, I was tired and forget what words even look like when Im tired :P
> 
> I was going to blow apart there little bit of happiness with good old revelations in this chapter, but changed my mind, thought I'd give Bucky a break (kinda-not-really) before I make him question what the hell hes doing with Steve.

Bucky didn’t know quite what to expect moving into the tower, if he was honest with himself, he thought he’d be trapped in a room at Steve’s beck and call, wasting away until the monster had his fill.

But no, Steve let him roam the tower, interact with the other avengers, who were welcoming if not curious about why he was there. 

His arm and hand were healing and after a grovelling phone call to the care-home he was due back as soon as the casts were off. His boss had tripped over her words to ensure he had a job, was apologising down the line but Bucky didn’t know what for. He had been the unreasonable one...

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tony let him in the lab, in fact he seemed thrilled by the company and spewed endless running commentary’s of what he was doing.

The odd metal chair still stood pride of place, Tony explained how he thought it worked. A mouth guard was necessary to save the patients teeth, waves of energy passed into the temporal lobes, burning away memory’s, changing thought processes, leaving a shell of a person behind to mould. Other areas could be targeted too, the frontal lobe Tony said was in charge of emotion, it was possible to rid a patient of all feelings, empathy, fear, pity, creating the ultimate no morals killing machine.

Steve at least had some emotional context, just the thought of him having none whatsoever had Bucky shuddering.

“Oi, speaking to you, head in the clouds...”

Bucky turned and linked eyes with Tony, as comforting as it was listening to someone speaking, he often zoned out and was unaware when the self-proclaimed monologue had ended.

“Sorry what?”

“Said you got your cast off.”

Bucky raised his hands up, “one of them.”

His damaged palm was uncover, still swollen and stiff, but with more mobility than it had that the weeks before. His wrist was still bandaged, another garish white cast that seemed to pulsate when he looked at it.

“Will be happy when this is better too.”

Tony nodded, “won’t be long, x-rays looking good, few more weeks of it.”

They had changed his cast, an before they could throw the old one he gripped onto it, wanting a memento of Steve, the nice Steve, the one that he rarely saw, it was such a shockingly pure moment. He wanted it again, had been sitting with his arm purposely on display so Steve might offer, but no, he hadn’t commented.

Bucky plodded back to the apartment dragging his feet, wondering what Steve he was going to be faced with, the affectionate one that couldn’t get enough of his mouth or the dominate one that without warning took his pants down.

It was neither, Steve was staring into space, jaw set and veins popping in his neck. The not-really-there Steve...

“Steve?”

There was no response, only the unwavering eye contact with the opposite wall. He was caught up in his thoughts again, ones that made his fists tighten and shake from pressure.

He looked poised, ready to leap into some violent attack, although Bucky believed Steve wouldn’t consciously hurt him, he didn’t know whether Steve was even aware he was in the room. He didn’t want to get in the way of Steve’s rampant anger so watched him from the other side of the room. Occasionally speaking his name and hoping it was enough, unfortunately his voice didn’t have any miraculous ability’s and didn’t draw him back.

He started the coffee machine, preparing one just how Steve liked it, the smell filled the room, wrapping around Bucky like a blanket. He moved slowly, in Steve’s eyeline so he didn’t startle the enraged man.

He placed the coffee beside Steve on the coffee table and backed away, making his own and drinking it in the kitchen. It didn’t take long before Steve was gulping breaths of air, finding the source of the aroma and glaring at it.

“It’s coffee...”Bucky said, kicking himself at how stupid he sounded, of course Steve knew it was coffee.

Bucky watched as Steve cupped the mug in his hands, staring down into the pool of brown, he inhaled deep and some of the darkness left him face, his smile wasn’t manic or crazy but awed.

“Thank you.”

The grateful tone from just receiving a coffee had Bucky twirling on the spot, facing away to compose himself. It was a coffee, and Steve’s voice floated as if he’d unearthed the secrets to the universe.  
“’s just a coffee.”

“It’s much more than a coffee, more than a taste or a smell or a gesture.”

Bucky frowned at the coffee machine wondering what magical quality’s it possessed, none, it looked like a normal coffee maker.

“Looks like coffee to me.”

Steve chuckled and Bucky froze, he was directly behind, head creeping over Bucky’s shoulder.  
“Thank you for bringing me back from that.”

Bucky didn’t have a clue what ‘that’ referred to, but he was sure he didn’t wanna know, it was bound to be dark and creepy, the place in Steve’s mind that robbed him of consciousness.

“No problem.”

It was a bit unnerving to be complimented like that for making a god-damn coffee, Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist, securing him in place and resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. It was nice, shouldn’t of been, but it was and he was fed up of tying to convince himself otherwise, he sighed and leaned back, feeling the warmth of Steve heat his back.

It was then Steve looked down and noticed Bucky unconsciously rubbing his cast.

“That bothering you, why didn’t you just ask?”

Bucky’s only response was to let his jaw hang and stutter out a few words that made no sense, when put as bluntly as that, he could’ve just asked Steve to glam it up.  
“Didn’t want to bother you.” He settled on saying, hoping to lessen the feeling of being an idiot.

“Bucky, you are the most important thing in the world, you are no bother...”  
Steve kissed Bucky’s knuckles before tugging him towards the couch. Bucky sat and waited for Steve to return with the box of pens he used before.

His pen was propped to begin, but Steve didn’t, flashing a shy smile to Bucky.

“Oh right, you want me to look away.”

Steve nodded, still with the same unsure expression on his face. Bucky wanted to capture that expression, the innocents and uncertainty wasn’t often displayed on Steve’s face-  
“Look away Buck.”

“Sorry.” He snapped his head to the off TV, watching as Steve leaned over and started drawing. It was one of the rare times Steve could be so close and not intimidating, his laser focus wasn’t cataloguing Bucky’s reactions and expressions but was fixed to creating a master-piece of colour.

The calmness had Bucky rocking while he sat, eyes fuzzing and snapping back to focus when he realised he was nodding off.

He carried so much tension when he was around Steve, waiting for the other man to snap, get angry or turn around and say he’d changed his mind and no longer wanted to be with Bucky, the thought was more terrifying than Steve drugging and tying him up again-

“Relax...your clenching your fingers.”

He hadn’t realised until Steve told him, then winced at the fierce ache in his hand.

“I’ll get you your meds...no looking though.”

Bucky nodded, still staring at the off TV, as soon as Steve moved there was a brush of cold air where he had been, a comfort that was gone.

His head was messed up, but the last few months had been a shit-show so it was no wonder his mind was still trying to slot itself together in a forever changed position.

“Swallow.”

Steve popped the pill between Bucky’s lips and offer his good hand the water, he gulped it down, wondering why in hell they made tablets as big as marbles.

“You almost done?”

“Almost, finishing touch...”

He turned his head to take a peek but Steve tutted loudly, prodding Bucky in the chest with a pen.

“Oww.”

“No looking yet.”

He sighed, staring at the black screen again, he could see Steve, smiling, could see that Steve kept pausing and looking at his face admiringly, and that made Bucky’s stomach flip.

“Okay done...”

No longer a wolf, but a rose, with delicate petals and every shade of red. It should’ve been sappy, over-the-top romantics, but Bucky loved it. It made him grin like an absolute moron and gaze at Steve through his lashes.

Steve was watching his reaction with wide eyes, edging the couch, a different kind of tension in his features, he wanted to know what he had done was good. Bucky decided to be the little shit he was, and make Steve squirm.

“’m not sure...”

Steve’s face fell, posture sagged so quickly he seemed boneless.  
“What?”

The same way he felt Steve storing all his different expressions, he did the same to Steve. Hurt, Steve looked gutted and Bucky couldn’t keep his bullshit up for long. He didn’t like that look, no matter how good it felt to see the other side of Steve Rogers.

“I love it...”

“You bastard...”

Steve was pinching him, dancing his fingers under Bucky’s shirt and making him thrash with no control. He ducked his head down to bite at Bucky’s neck, nipping the flesh and making it tingle, that was a big weakness area for Bucky, one he didn’t even know he had.

“You do like it?” Steve asked again, in the voice of a boy that wanted approval.

“Course I do.”

Then there was the smile, the big and dazzling one that held no note of anger or control, and Bucky couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it, touch his own smile to Steve’s. It was like magnetism, so strong it would be psychically unpleasant not to move forward. The blood in Bucky’s veins was singing, heart fluttering and skin tingling with the need to be caressed.

The warm swell of happiness was in his chest again, it blocked out all negative memory’s and thoughts and it was just Bucky and the man in front, the one who had created something beautiful to display on his arm. The kiss was gentle, Steve gave the control over, allowing Bucky to suck on his bottom lip and let it go, to lick his tongue against the seams of Steve’s lips. The sounds that left Steve were pure pleasure, pure bliss, not moans and groans, but sounds of relief, of relaxation and appeasement.

The kiss deepened and Steve hummed in contentment, yanking at Bucky’s elbows until he got the hint and climbed on Steve’s lap. Bucky wanted to kiss like that for hours, it wasn’t sexual, although he was steadily growing hard and Steve was a rock beneath him. This touch of lips was passionate in another way, and Bucky knew in the back of his head what it was, but he wasn’t ready to stare that emotion in the face.

Steve gripped the bottom of Bucky’s shirt and tugged it up, growling in frustration when it got caught. He ripped it in two with ease, letting the material drop down.

“Got to stop tearing my clothes up.”

“Stop wearing clothes and I won’t have to.”

Two grown men attempting to get intimate on the couch was complicated, especially with the clothes barrier in the way. Bucky didn’t voice his frustration but Steve did, growling and toppling them onto the floor, the coffee table was pushed with so much force it hit the wall and shattered.

“Shit, Steve-“

Bucky gawped at the wall, now with a sizeable chip, and the coffee table in bits underneath. Steve grumbled again, covering Bucky’s mouth with his own. The delicate moment of before was forgotten under Steve’s sudden want, and that was fine by Bucky. He gave himself up to Steve’s wandering hands, his curious tongue and his firm cock.  
It was a synchronised dance, with no need for words, just broken gasps and wet sounds, the occasional laugh when Bucky tried to struggle away.

Everything they had gone through in the cabin, being tied up repeatedly, he shouldn’t of liked being pinned by Steve but my god he did, love trying to wiggle away, or throwing Steve off to have him growl and pin his wrist to the floor.

It was exciting, like prodding an angry beast and waiting for it to lose it, for it to do the unexpected, in this case Steve flipped him over grabbed his hips pulling him back on to his cock so fast the wind left Bucky’s lungs in an oomph.

Then he was helpless, just how he liked it, with Steve ramming into his bent over body, while he clawed at the floor for some stability. He still tried to wiggle away, throw Steve off his stride until Steve shoved him fully to the floor, smothering him with his weight so he couldn’t get away. Completely consumed by Steve and his desire, until his head was robbed of all conscious thoughts, and he smiled into the floor.

He liked gentle Steve, artistic Steve, dominating Steve, he was finding more things he liked than didn’t, going over the tipping point into something new.

Dominating Steve came with a roar, nipping at the flesh of Buckys shoulder hard, before flipping him over. There was an embarrsing smear of pre-come on the tiles, the sight made Steve groan low in his throat.  
"You have no idea how hot you are..."  
He didn't think of himself as hot, but when Steve looked at him like that, like he wanted to eat him all up, he could almost believe he was the hottest man to grace the earth.

It didn't take much on Steves part to make Bucky come, he was still riding high on the swell of happiness, and a few firm but gentle tugs from Steves hand and he was spilling like a fountain, there was no shame to it, Steve groaned again biting his lip before ducking down and kissing Buckys face, all over his face, like it was a ritual and he had to cover every millimeter of Buckys face with his lips.

It was more than nice, he loved the affection, loved the sound of Steve's smacking kisses against his skin.

Afterwards, when Bucky Steve eased his manic kisses, and lay down next to him, Bucky rolled on top, forearm resting on Steve’s chest so he could admire the rose—

“You really like it?”

Bucky nodded, ducking forward to give Steve a quick kiss. It was mesmerising how Steve could be so in control and dominant one second and show such vulnerability the next.

“Is it the picture? The style?”

It was certainly the first rose Bucky had ever received, and he loved the watercolour effect with the reds all running, but it wasn’t the reason he liked it so much, and Steve knew it.

“I like it because you did it, you’ve given me a piece of you.”

“You have all of me Buck...when will I get all of you?”

He had no answer, just leaned in and gave Steve another delicate kiss before dropping his head to Steve’s shoulder. He belonged to Steve, knew he did, just wasn’t ready to admit it so freely aloud.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Natasha was teaching him self-defence, which basically entailed him getting the crap kicked out of him by her. She smiled why she was doing it, not snide or smirking, but a fond smile, that was at least something. She didn’t seem to hate him.

“You have good posture...”

Bucky nodded along, not sure what to say to that, he had a straight back, wasn’t anything to write home about.

“You have the stance of a dancer.”

That got more of a reaction, an uncomfortable shuffle of Bucky’s feet, “Really?”

Acting like he was unaware of what she was getting at didn’t work, her red lips stretched into a predatory grin.  
“Stand on one leg.”

Bucky frowned at the change in topic, doing as she told him. Not a wobble, not a tremor, just focussed on the task he had been given.

“Now on your toes.”

He cracked a smile, attempting what she asked but only managing for a few seconds.

“You use to dance, but now you don’t.”

“Long time ago.”

Natasha smiled, big and bright with a wondrous expression, “Ballet, like me...”

The door at the far end crashed open, Steve strutted towards the two of them. Bucky had frozen, specifically on one leg. Steve didn’t look happy, puffing his chest out and breathing through his nose.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled.

“Balancing on one leg...”

Steve rolled his eyes, “I can see that, but why.”

He didn’t know, was pretty sure Natasha had said he could drop the pose but for some odd reason he hadn’t.

“Your boys a dancer.” Natasha said matter-of-factly.  
Natasha smiled at Steve but her expression dropped as quickly as it came. She looked away, spinning on the spot and padding down the gym.

“Not anymore.” Bucky added quickly, cheeks glowing redder the longer Steve looked his way.

“Why not anymore?” He growled.

Bucky shrugged, finally settling his foot back on the floor, “I stopped when I moved here.”

“Were you made to stop?”

Bucky scrunched his face, “No---why’d ya think that?”

“Brock wouldn’t have liked it.”

That was probably accurate, Brock didn’t enjoy physically contact in front of others incase he looked unmanly, Bucky doubted he would’ve been happy with his boyfriend dancing around a studio in leotards.  
Steve was leaning forward with a twitching eye, lip pulling up slightly to reveal a few teeth.

“He didn’t know I use to dance...”

Natasha was backing away, collecting her towel and water bottle from the floor, she was going to leave him with Steve, a Steve he couldn’t read. He looked angry, crowding in on Bucky’s space with rage flecking his irises.

“’nd why didn’t you tell him?”

Bucky was sweaty from his work out, but Steve hovering close with intimidating waves was making him steam, clutch at the top of his t-shirt and flap to relive the heat.

“I-I dunno, guess he wouldn’t of cared, or he wouldn’t of liked it...it didn’t matter, doesn’t matter.”

That made Steve grin, toothily and shark like, “Brock didn’t know you...”

The revelations from the weeks before showed Bucky didn’t know Brock either, his boyfriend was a brute, a disgusting one. Not only had he burned Bucky’s house to the ground and lied about his past, but the texts he was sending, disturbing messages of how he would hurt  
Bucky if he saw him again, more than hurt him, the one that morning had been particularly sinister, it was the closest he’d got to telling Steve, showing him them. But in all likeliness Steve would go crazy and hunt Brock down, and as much as Brock was a waste of space, he didn’t want him hurt...or dead.

Steve was staring intently with a smug expression, spread lips and narrowed eyes, without knowing why, it annoyed the hell out of Bucky, grating his nerves till they were raw. He felt stupid enough about Brock and his lies without Steve shoving that messed up relationship in his face.

“You don’t know me either.” Bucky spat back. 

The smugness on Steve’s face morphed into a snarl, “I know you use to dance, more than him-

“Only because Natasha told you, I didn’t.”

The woman in question was watching from afar, unsure whether to leave the room.

“I know you dance, he doesn’t, maybe subconsciously you thought he’d hurt you, smash your face in, break your legs so you stopped.”

“Steve.” Hissed out across the room. Natasha was poised to leave, hand on the door, but still she stayed. “He doesn’t dance anymore.”

Steve took his intense glare from Bucky and attached it to Natasha, she stumbled slightly, as if Steve’s anger was a physical force.  
Some unspoken conversation was rolling between the two, Bucky waited patiently, trying to gage what was going on.

Then Steve squeezed the top of his nose hard with a sigh, “’m sorry...”

He wasn’t expecting an apology, wasn’t sure why Steve was freely giving one, but when he looked up the anger had gone, melted away in the place stood sorrow and guilt.  
Natasha seemed satisfied and flung herself through the door fast, trying to get away from Steve as fast as she could.

“Bad day.” He said as an explanation and Bucky nodded, that was probably all Steve was going to say about what he’d been up to. From Tony’s fountain of verbal thoughts, Bucky had gathered a little bit of knowledge. Steve was still trying to track down hydra, the ever evasive hydra that could hide in plain sight. Tony mentioned a clocking device they were using, able to morph their identity’s to the naked eye. It sounded like the stuff of fantasy’s until Tony morphed into Steve’s face, making him fall from the chair.

“Things didn’t go the way I wanted today...”  
Steve moved away with the struck puppy look, and Bucky felt that gutting sensation, the one that crept up and intensified every time Steve left his side. Even angry-confusing Steve was better than no Steve.

“My mum use to dance.” Bucky blurted after, Steve paused with his hand on the door listening.  
“She would take me with her, long as I can remember...asked if I wanted to try an I did...I was..good.”

As vain as he sounded he was more than good, she would watch with her eyes watering and her hands pressed together in silent applause. That was why he did it, why he took all the shit thrown his way for doing it.

“I stopped, not because I moved here or..or Brock, but because she died, I only did it for her, to make her happy.”  
Bucky stumbled back a step, shocked at his own outburst. Saying that piece of himself aloud to someone for the first time made him feel oddly detached, exposed in a whole new way.

“How did she die?”

Thinking about his mum was complicated, the happy memories, there were loads, but her death had felt almost like a betrayal.

“She was ill, she kept it from me...lied—then it was sudden, she was gone just like that and I was so angry, angry at the people around me for not telling me, angry at her for not telling me.”

He couldn’t stop speaking, admitting how he felt about his mum. It made him want to tear his own eyes out, that stinging confusion.

“We do things to protect the people we love-

“It was selfish not to tell me!”

Steve staggered, swallowing hard and edging forward. The first time he looked unsure how to continue. The usually controlled Steve didn’t know how to comfort a man bordering a break down, Bucky laughed harshly, why would Steve even care-

“She didn’t want to hurt you.”

He laughed, a bitter laugh that soured his mouth, “what and just being dead the next day isn’t going to hurt me, having everyone in on some big secret, like I’m an idiot.”

Steve held his palms up, “okay, she was selfish, didn’t think you could handle it, thought she knew what was best.”

“I don’t like getting lied to, I don’t like being kept in the dark, the truth comes out, it’s always worse.”

“Maybe, but maybe it was worth it for her, to see you happy the last days she could enjoy.”

That was most probably it, but it left a bitterness, he couldn’t stay there knowing everyone was in on some big secret, had not told him anything, how could he possibly trust them.

“I came here to drink myself into oblivion.”

He almost had, drinking smashed out of his mind, crashing into freezing water, drowning with the last thought, ‘now I can ask her why.’ If it wasn’t for Brock, his saviour, another liar-

Steve was no longer by the door but right in front, gripping onto both his hands, the pose was so intimate it reminded Bucky’s of two people at the alter pronouncing there love.

“I won’t lie to you.”

Bucky breathed a disbelieving laugh, “yeah right, you’ll be truthful no matter what?”

Steve nodded, edging his feet forward so his trainers were brushing the tips of Bucky toes.  
“Yes,” he flicked his head to coax Bucky’s head up, “ask me anything.”

A golden pass to ask Steve Rogers anything, and suddenly his mind had gone blank.

“What did you do at work today?”

The lamest question ever-

“I interrogated a prisoner.”

Not what he expected Steve to say, “when-when you say interrogate-

“I tortured a man to death.”

He said it so plainly, like what he said wasn’t horrific, it was routine, and the smile on his face was unnerving.  
Steve read the shock on Bucky’s face, and added “the ends justify the means...”

Maybe that was true, but Steve didn’t have to look so bloody happy about it.

“Ask me another...”

Bucky rocked on his heels, glancing away and plucking another question that had been floating in his head for days.  
“Did you know-did you know Brock had done all those things, hurt those people...you said you wanted me when you saw me at the care home.., and you had all this technology, you never looked at his file before I came here that day? Made sure I was safe?”

Steve blinked quickly, deep frown settling on his skin, “would it of made a difference?”

“Yes.” Bucky breathed, “if you would’ve told me...I would have broke up with him sooner, us getting together wouldn’t of been so...” Deranged, fucked up, crazy, all the words flew through Bucky’s head but he settled on, “messy.”

“I didn’t think he was a physical threat.”

“Physical threat?”

Steve clicked his tongue to the rough of his mouth a few times before answering, “he was an emotional threat, if you loved him that would’ve made things more complicated, but you didn’t...I never saw him hurting you, never thought he would, so I wasn’t interested in him till the day he slapped you outside the tower, then I-I found another side to him...you don’t have to worry about him anymore, you’ll tell me if he try’s to contact you right?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to mention the messages, Steve seemed to be leaning in expectantly but Bucky sighed with a shake of his head. He didn’t want to tell Steve about the messages, that was his own messed up problem and he wasn’t going to burden Steve with it.

“Now can I ask you one?” Steve said.

Bucky gawped in reply but managed a nod.

“Do you love me Buck?”

His heart was fluttering, breathing jumping as if Steve had punched the air out of him. Steve was no longer gripping his fingers, one hand had moved to feel Bucky’s wrist.

“Steve—

“Answer the question.”

He couldn’t, didn’t want to throw that out there, have it devoured by the man in front.

“I don’t know...”

Steve tutted, “you want everyone to be truthful yet you’re not yourself...I know the answer without you saying it, your breathing, your pulse, your dilating pupils.”

“Then why are you asking.”

Bucky tried to tug his arms back but Steve wouldn’t release them, “I wanna hear you say it.”

He forced his eyes to climb up Steve’s body, stare him in the eye, open his mouth to speak, but was thankfully saved by a blaring alarm. Piercing in tone, accompanied by red flashing lights.

Jarvis’s voice made Bucky spring up, he still wasn’t use to the walls speaking. He vaguely registered the words emergency, and immediately, but it was hard to hear anything when the alarm screeched so loud.

“You’re needed downstairs.” Bucky shouted in Steve’s ear, but he wouldn’t back away.

“No I need to hear you say it, always so stubborn-

Rather than pull back, Bucky pushed forward with his arms thudding on Steve’s chest, “I’m the stubborn one? There’s something going on and they need you-

“Need me...need me? What about what I need, always following there orders.”

Jarvis voice spiked up again, demanding Steve downstairs. Bucky remembered what Tony had said to him, he needed to go along with Steve’s wishes and it was easier on everyone-

“The answers yes!”

Steve stumbled in shock, eyes so huge they were in danger of falling out. A smile so wondrous and powerful it seemed like time paused, the sound of the siren no longer made Bucky want to shove his fists down his ear, even the flashing red reflecting on Steve’s face looked joyous.

“Steve they need you.”

Steve nodded dazed, making his way towards the door with the same amazed expression, there was no eagerness to his walk, it was more a stroll down the corridor to get to the elevator, then he vanished through the door still grinning to himself.

“Fuuuuck.”

 

Bucky sank to the floor, he was in love with Steve, it was one thing having the thought float around his head but it was another to say it aloud, let his own ears register the truth. Somewhere along the line he had fallen for Steve, was addicted to his presence.  
What did that make him, a guy that had fallen in love with his rapist, a guy that could over look murder and torture if it meant staying with Steve.

“I suggest you go back to Mr Rogers apartment.”

Bucky slapped his hands to his thighs, glaring at the ceiling.

“Fine, I’ll do that.”

He stood, registering the shaking in the floor, the tremors coming up the wall. There was muffled noise, breaking glass and the sound of an explosion.

“That threats inside the tower...”

The lights continued to blare out red, the sound still shrieked, and when Bucky moved towards the windowed wall, he could see rubble strewn across the street, panicked people running away. Shutters slid in front on the windows, sealing the building, plunging it into darkness, only the frequent flash of red could guide Bucky’s way.

“It’s most advisable to get to somewhere secure.”

“Right yeah, ‘m going.”

He jogged over to the door just as another explosion rocked the building, “how explosion proof is this place.”

“Stark tower can withstand a magnitude 8.5 earthquake...”

“Well, guess that’s good to know...”

Then Jarvis voice droned, stuttered and faded to nothing, the siren stopped but the flashing lights remained, reflecting off the walls as Bucky made his way along.

“Jarvis?”

No reply, he got to the elevator, stabbing the button, but no light came on, the numbers weren’t flashing as the elevator climbed, putting his ear to the doors he heard there was no movement. Shit, that wasn’t good, things got worse when he heard booming footfalls in the stairwell.

“Double shit.” He hissed.

There was no where to hide in the empty corridor, all Bucky could do was wait and see who appeared, and hope to god they were on the same side.  
Blonde hair, the stupid skin tight red-white-n-blue. Bucky sighed in relief with his hand on his chest.

“Steve, what the hells happening?”

Steve took a hesitant step forward, his eyes were darting, mouth twisting as if it was uncomfortable. Something was not right, Steve wasn’t right.  
“Hey...”

That only confirmed what Bucky knew, Defiantly not Steve, Steve wouldn’t address him with a simple hey. Steve’s face but not Steve...The man was holding a gun, angling it up as if unsure.

“What’s happening down there?”

The gun stopped rising, hung in the mans hand at his side.  
“Shit, shits going down.”

Never would Steve say that but Bucky nodded along, it was better to convince the man he genuinely believed he was Steve.

“Anyone hurt?”  
The man rocked on his heels, taking a hesitant step forwards. It was all wrong, Steve would be rushing at him, engulfing him or checking him for injury. Not taking uncertain footsteps, looking spooked.

“Yeah, yeah...but the most important thing is securing the-the winter soldier...”

Shit, it was Bucky’s turn to smile awkwardly, what the hell was the winter soldier, a person, a weapon, he had no idea so just bobbed his head up and down in agreement.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll help you secure it.”

The man with Steve’s face smiled, but it looked all wrong, lips stretched in a way the real Steve didn’t do, eyebrows shaking in uncertainty.  
“We have to get to the laboratory, Hydra will be heading that way, got to get there first.”

Hydra searching for something kept in the labs, other than the cloaking device, it could only be the messed up chair, they wanted it back.

Bucky flicked his head, “lets get going then.”

The man followed with relief in Steve’s face, checking the stairwell behind. The man didn't know where the lab was, thought he was clever getting Bucky to lead him there.  
“Why they trying to get the-the winter soldier back...” he asked.

Bucky was doing his best to be casual, throwing warming smiles at Steve’s face. The man was growing more confident with each smile he got. Walking normally with no fear of attack.

The man grinned, chomping down on his lip before reply, “they don’t want us knowing how it works, what it does, the potential of the programme.”

“It’s a brainwashing machine.” Bucky mumbled, and the man paused in his stride.

“Yeah... a new age of soldiers, ones without conscious or fear, just efficient...hydra don’t want their ideas stolen, used against them.”

All Tony’s theory’s about how it worked and what it did, Bucky hoped to god they hadn’t tested it on anyone and weren’t planning too.

“Makes sense...” He mumbled.

Bucky continued, acting as calm as possible, Not-Steve was still gripping his gun, there was no doubt he would use it once Bucky had led him to his destination.

To the man, he was an idiot, easily fooled, was leading himself to his own doom. Bucky was fed up with everyone thinking he was an idiot, could be lied to so easily. They wanted to destroy the machine, be sure Tony couldn’t work on it anymore.... well that was the one thing Bucky wouldn’t let this guy do.

The red lights continued to flash brightness at them, fading and warping again, thankfully Not-Steve wasn’t paying much attention to the walls, the door Bucky was leading him to was plastered in warnings, cautions signs and skull symbols.

The hatch door, Jarvis couldn’t open it, he was still out of action, but there was a manual override, Bucky tugged the handle and it opened on a completely dark corridor.

“It’s through there, can’t hear anything though...”

The man laughed, in Steve’s voice, making it sound all scratchy and wrong, the gun was up, aiming at Bucky’s chest just as he stepped through.

Except it wasn’t a corridor, but a steep drop to the bottom floor. The impatient Tony wanted a faster route to every floor, to be able to fly the entire length on the inside as well as the out. It was one of the first things he showed him, demanding a race from the bottom to the top, Bucky thought he would win in the elevator with Tony having to fly the winding stairs and dodging people, he was wrong...and he was so fucking thankful in that moment for Tony’s impatience.

As soon as the mans balance went, he started to fall, the gun which was aimed squarely at his chest went sharply upwards when his arms flailed. That’s what people get for thinking they could underestimate him, thinking he was a complete idiot. He was sick to death of being manipulated, of being lied to and as the man faded to black, Bucky was swamped my an emotion close to triumph. He snarled at the man as he went, relishing in his surprise.

The last Bucky saw of him before he vanished into the black was Steve’s shocked face, panicked as he fell to his death, and the realisation of what he’d just done hit him.

Before the sound of crunching bone and splatting flesh registered, he dropped to the floor shaking, he’d killed someone, he’d killed Steve- not Steve his brain supplied, but still he had led someone to their death.

He didn’t recognise himself anymore, the man he was turning in to. It made his skin crawl with unease, his stomach slosh with sickness. It wasn’t really about the dead man at the bottom of the chute, it was a case of him or me and Bucky chose himself, but he’d been happy when he saw the man fall, his shock and his fear, it almost made Bucky feel proud of leading him to his grave, but now he felt disgusted with himself, shocked to the core that he had done that to another person and felt such intense positive emotions.

He stayed sitting with his head in his palms, pushing firmly, trying to squeeze the confusion out of his head. It hurt, but he kept the pressure of the sole of his hands pressing his temples until he felt dizzy, till his wrist throbbed with sharpness, nearly fixed bones cracking and sliding again.

The lights came back on, the door beside him slid shut with a hum and Jarvis’s computing voice called to him but he ignored it, there was only one voice that he wanted---  
“Where’s Steve?”

“He’s on his way Mr Barnes.”

Thank fuck for that, Bucky leaned his head back and shut his eyes, he needed Steve to take control for a bit, rob him of all the shit in his head and distract him, drag him back into the apartment and do what he wanted with Bucky’s body till his mind went fuzzy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steves up next, but will it be the nice Steve or the raving crazy one...hmmm...  
> May do Steve-bottoming for Bucky at some point...hmmm


	11. part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve....being Steve...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd, bound to be mistakes especially coz I haven't gone over it.
> 
> I wrote this today...so if its below par then its my bad and I'll give the next chapter more love an attention. I just really wanted to get something out today....
> 
> Thanks for kudos and comments, they really do keep me going on the bad days x  
> <3
> 
> bit of riding Bucky in this chap for the anon who so nicely suggested it on tumblr... ;)

He was running, at the first mention of Bucky’s name he started running. The power was still stuttering back to life, and he didn’t trust the elevator, his legs were the quickest mode of transport and he was launching up the stairwell quicker than Tony could fly. Bucky was in trouble, not where he was supposed to be, not safe in the apartment but on a random floor. Even with Jarvis matter-of-factly saying Bucky was fine, unharmed, Steve couldn’t breathe, held his breath till he was on the right floor.

He saw Bucky at the far end, head in his hands and trembling. He ran the distance still not breathing and dropped to his knees shuffling along till he could reach for Bucky. Only then could he breathe again. Steve gripped Bucky’s arms caging round his head, and they fell like rotten timber so there foreheads could press together.

“Bucky-

He didn’t get a chance to say anything else, Bucky jolted forward, messily slotting his mouth to Steve’s. It was a desperate kiss, one that Steve returned wholeheartedly, relief was singing in his veins, but there was still a chance Bucky was hurt, and that had to be priority.

Every time Steve tried to slow the kiss to a stop, or at least a break, Bucky didn’t allow it, mouth chasing an capturing. Steve knew he should resist, check Bucky, but his tongue swirling, his teeth biting and his mouth sucking, he was easily swept up in the attention, Bucky so obviously needy and wanting.

“Wait, wait...”He hushed, but Bucky didn’t let up, even when Steve pulled his mouth away Bucky turned his attention to his neck,  
tongue sloshing enthusiastically. Steve couldn’t help his moan that followed, his restraint slipping away.

Bucky was begging for it, movements all rushed and soppy, but the lack of anything verbal sent alarm bells ringing in Steve’s head, there were no moans and groans from Bucky’s lips only his own.

Steve forced his blood out of his cock, sparking some brain power and resisting the urge to fuck Bucky into the floor.  
Hands to Bucky’s shoulders he pushed him away, separating them, so he could make sure he was unharmed.  
Steve watched confused as Bucky struggled, trying to force his way nearer but Steve was unyielding, holding the other man at bay.

“Are you hurt?”

Still no words, only darting eyes and trembling flesh.

Steve whipped his head round the space in confusion, there was nothing obvious, the corridor was empty, completely clear. As soon as he lessened the pressure holding Bucky in place, the other man was on him, climbing onto his lap and grinding down.

His restraint slipped with each rampant shift from Bucky’s hips, he was a second away from popping his pants and Bucky’s open and letting the desperate man have what he was so badly craving-

“Whoa...not a sight I wanna see.”

Steve twisted round to growl Tony’s way but that only gave Bucky more access to his neck, and his tongue licked at it, broad stokes and Steve was pretty close to losing his mind. He braced his hands on Bucky again, keeping him away so he could think, Bucky was making it so god-damn hard to think.

Steve stared at Bucky’s eyes, they weren’t dark with lust but had sunk, pupils pin pricks rather than swamped irises, there were small twitches in his face that Steve hadn’t seen before and his lips were bluing as if he hadn’t taken a proper gulp of oxygen.

“Stop.” Steve said firmly, more for Bucky’s sake but it worked for himself to, snapped him out of the mad desire that stole him.

“What happened?”

No reply, but Bucky leaned forward against the wall of Steve’s palms, letting out a pitiful sob.

“Jarvis?” Tony called, keeping his distance.

“Check the chute sir...”

Steve glanced at the yellow and black stripped doors, before looking back to Tony. He had edged his way closer, flicking his chin at the door.

“Can I?”

Steve nodded, turning his attention back to Bucky who had pressed his face to his chest, not trying to ride his clothed cock anymore but deathly still instead.  
Tony whistled and Steve looked up fast.

“What is it?”

“Dead guy...”

The words bounced round his head, a dead guy, a guy had been on the floor with Bucky, and Bucky had defended himself. Steve kept his hands up, putting pressure on Bucky’s shoulders to lean him back. He didn’t respond well, whining and biting his lip, wanting to get close again.

“’s okay...”

Steve peeked a look down the chute, it was hard to even identify the body at the bottom, just a hazy blue body with smearing red. But the realisation had him smiling, heart thumping proudly, Bucky killed one of the hydra scum, left him a bloodied mess.  
“You did so well, Buck, did exactly what you needed too.”

Steve ignored Tony’s wide eyes, his mouth that had unhinged and was hanging down.  
“Steve...I don’t think that’s what he wants to hear-

He turned his most intimidating glare on Tony, making him retreat down the corridor as if the look was a physical push.

“It was him on you.” Steve gripped onto Bucky’s chin, giving it a wobble to get him to focus, “hear me...between him and you, there was no choice, you had no choice, he had to die, you had to do it-

“I killed him Steve...”

“Yeah, yeah you did, and ‘m so proud of you Buck...”

Bucky shook his head with a sob, brown strands dropping over his forehead, Steve brushed them away, cupping Bucky’s jaw and tilting it up.

“You did good, real good.”

“No..’m a monster Steve...”

More feet clattered down the corridor, the voices of Sam and Nat mumbled, but Steve ignored them, showering Bucky with praise. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t even realised Bucky was in trouble, but he handled it, saved himself and killed one of the enemy.

Sam pushed forward from observing from the wall, his hands were up in a non aggressive gesture, the kind of one that told Steve immediately he was going to do or say something he wouldn’t like.

“I think I should speak to him.”

“Why?” Steve hissed, rocking back on his heels. Sam had the guts to challenge him over what was best for Bucky.

“He’s in shock Steve...”

“He’ll be fine..”

It was too much for Steve to have the three gawping at him and Bucky, he got to his feet and scooped Bucky into his arms effortlessly.  
There was a wince, so small that Steve studied Bucky intently, jumping him in his arm to see Bucky wince again.

“Where are you hurt?”  
He didn’t answer but Steve didn’t need to be a genius to see he was cradling the arm to his chest.  
“Med bay.” Steve announced, and the others were quick to more out the way.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Bucky’s arm had to be re-pinned, rewrapped, with a new blank cast. It made Steve growl in anger that he got hurt again, but that feeling was lost under relief and pride that Bucky took care of himself.

Every time he said as much, Bucky retreated further, putting the infuriating wall up again between them. Steve armed with his box of pens gripped the broken limb but Bucky tugged it away, not making eye contact. He hadn’t for days, and Steve couldn’t get his head around it.

So what he killed a guy? A guy that deserved it, would’ve without a doubt killed Bucky once he was no more use. Bucky had done the right thing, valuing his life above that creature.

Steve tried to understand why killing someone would be such a traumatic event for Bucky, but all he could feel was relief, that the hydra agent had perished and hadn’t had a chance to do any damage. Had that man of harmed him, or worse, killed Bucky, Steve would’ve burned the whole building down to be sure he didn’t make it out alive.

After five days with the zoned out version of Bucky, Steve realised he wasn’t the best suited to this kind of issue, telling Bucky he did good, made Steve proud, seemed to have a negative effect on Bucky. It made him worse, and although it pained him to admit, he needed some help with getting through to the zombie of a man.

Swallowing his pride, he had to ask for help, hated that he did, made his skin itch, but for Bucky he would.  
“Can you talk to him?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “yeah..what do you want me to tell him?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to give Sam the exact words, tell Bucky he did good, he shouldn’t be upset about killing that man, he should be happy, but that hadn’t worked. Bucky’s mind worked differently to his.

“I want you to talk to him, I’m not gunna tell you what to say...Just-just make him better...”

Sam was clearly stunned, blowing a breath through his teeth. “You want me to help him?”

“Yes, make him come to terms with what happened.”

Steve knew he couldn’t, he couldn’t understand why Bucky had taken it so hard. The first man Steve killed, it felt like a triumph, a reward. No longer the bullied scrawny kid but a man that didn’t have to answer to anyone. 

Sam bowed his head, “I’ll try..”

Steve narrowed his eyes at Sam, lip pulled back in a snarl so he’d change his answer.

“Will...I will make him better.”

“Yeah...you better Sam.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Sam swung by the apartment, and Steve left them to it. He didn’t like leaving, but forced himself to, knowing Bucky wouldn’t open up with him right there listening. He threw himself into tracking down the rest of hydra, helping Tony in the lab with the chair, learning the theory of how it worked.

They had to test it on a few hydra guinea-pigs, turn them into a suggestible vegetables to see how long it lasted. Tony felt guilty doing it, they screamed and pleaded, but it was over in a few minutes, the spark of life in their eyes left them and they could be moulded. That was what they wanted to do to him, mould him to do their bidding, their killing.  
The smaller the electrical waves, the less was destroyed, Tony could pin point parts of the brain, destroy specific areas.  
It was all very interesting, but when they had finished and were left with their hydra shell, there was no glory in killing someone defenceless. 

A swift bullet through the brain that didn’t fill Steve with that hearty pride of murder. He wanted to go on the hunt, kill them for sport...shooting a dribbling man, just didn’t do it for him...  
_______________________________________________________________________

Steve hated to admit it but after Bucky’s chat with Sam, he seemed less twitchy, still distant but no longer staring into space with dead eyes. Sam’s repeated visits with Bucky were working, bringing Bucky back from some pit Steve didn’t even know could exist.

“Will you...”  
Steve snapped to attention, hadn’t even realised Bucky was in front of him and actually speaking to him for the first time in days. His arm was held up, white cast glowing in front of Steve’s face.

“Sure Buck...”

They sat in their normal positions, both kneeling on the sofa while Steve got started. He hoped to hell that was progress, that Bucky was going to stop shutting him out. So relieved by Bucky sitting near him, he didn’t ask him to look away. Lets him watch as he zoned out and decorated the arm.

It was relaxing, more intimate than before because Bucky was watching every move curiously, Steve was pretty sure he smudged some lines, didn’t do the picture perfectly because he had an audience.

It was stupid, how Bucky’s could make him lose composure that way, even Peggy didn’t have the ability to make him nervous, but Bucky did when he was putting himself on display, and he had to wait to see if Bucky liked what he saw.  
Steve finished and glanced up at Bucky. He looked happier, eyes shining again and pink lips twitching into a smile.

“Blue...flowers?”

Steve chuckled, running his fingers over the ink, “there geraniums...”

Bucky stared back, brow wrinkling in confusion, and Steve couldn’t blame him, it was a specific flower, in a specific colour and it was no wonder Bucky didn't get the importance.

“My ma’s favourite flowers, her favourite colour...”

Steve watched as Bucky looked down again, touching his cast lightly, “there beautiful...”

When Steve looked at the cast he could only see the small mistakes he had made, the lines where his hand wobbled under the pressure of Bucky’s gaze. He doesn’t like looking at something that isn’t perfect, something he’s done that isn't flawless.

“Your ma...she’s buried near here right?”

Steve found himself nodding along before frowning, “how’d you know that?”

There was red in his cheeks, but Bucky bobbed his head, “read it at the museum once...”

It made sense, the stupid museum was set up to distract from the more unsavoury things that were done in captain Americas name. Giving him a sense of heart and family.

“She’s in a plot next to dad...I take her geraniums on her birthday, mothers day...”

This is too personal, too raw even though it happened so long ago, he doesn’t wanna talk about the last person who looked at him with no lingering horror. He hadn’t always been so bitter, so twisted. She had seen the good in him, only ever seen the good.

Lips woke him up from sinking too far, pressed to his cheek before his mouth. Bucky was kissing him again, responding when Steve kissed him back.

He sighed into the lock of mouths, tugging Bucky to climb into his lap. He missed it, so bloody much, and he savoured the kiss until his needs overtook his heart and he hauled Bucky round his waist and into the bedroom.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Steve paced through the tower, looking for Sam, he needed to say thank you, usually wouldn’t bother but when it came to Bucky’s happiness he had to acknowledge those that helped him, helped him come to terms with what happened. He owed Sam big time.  
He spied Sharon’s smiling face a mile a way.

“What?” He didn’t have time for her shit.

She twirled her finger in her hair with a smirk, “another letter...

“Another one.” Steve growled, grabbing at the envelop.

Another grovelling letter from Brock Rumlow, he was resisting every urge to kill the guy, only hadn’t because he promised Bucky, but the guy was sending letters, hovering near the tower, there was only so much he could take before he sorted Brock out for good.

“He’s not going to stop till he gets Bucky back.”

Steve ripped at the envelop with more aggression than needed, splitting the card in half. The gushing words were blanked out when Steve saw the front of the card. A birthday card, it was Bucky’s birthday and he hadn’t even realised.

Sharon drowned out to an annoying hum as Steve walked away, walk turning to a thumping jog. He needed to see Tony and fast.  
If there’s one thing Steve did understand, it’s how a son can love and miss his mother. And he cherishes the picture of his own mum, so to know he burnt all Bucky’s pictures of his in the house fire...he actually felt guilty about it. Or at least...he thinks the feelings guilt being very unfamiliar with it..

Tony tracked down the town in Russia where Bucky used to live, the dance school his mum performed and taught at. It took some bribery, some intimidation, but the school sent him some documents, some pictures for when Bucky’s mum was there. There was no mistaking the woman, same shaped eyes, startling blue-grey and brown thick hair.

Steve was waiting for the right moment to give them to Bucky, but it seemed that moment had found him.

“Happy birthday...”

Bucky blinked in confusion, glancing around the room, “what day is it?”

“The 12th of may...”

“So it is...”

Steve ignored Bucky’s lack of cheer and tugged his hand lightly to get him to follow.

“I got you something...”

Bucky was about to protest, he could tell but he held his hand up to stop him. 

“Here...”

He handed over the box and Bucky took it, still with the stunned expression slapped to his face.  
A watch, it wasn’t too blingy, black leather strap and sparkling analogy clock, it wasn't the watch itself that’s special, more the device inside. A tracking one, Tony made to relieve some of Steves anxiety over Bucky going back to work, of Bucky going anywhere without him.

The second present was the risky one, either Bucky was going to be touched or violated by the photographs he managed to get, but it was the moment of truth. Stupid nervousness reared up again, and Steve hated that, hated that he wasn’t beyond such an un-useful emotion.  
Bucky’s mouth was hanging shocked, eyes wide and Steve waited nervously knowing it could go either way.

There was a gasp, Bucky’s fingertips traced the picture delicately, his mum smiling at the camera-  
“Steve I-

He was expecting ‘I hate you’ or ‘I love it’, still on the scales of good or bad it was killing him that he didn’t know which way it would go.

“Thank you..” Bucky breathed, and relief swamped Steve enough to make him sag in his stance, let out his own sigh and pull Bucky into a hug that was greatly returned.

 

They went out for Bucky birthday, a group of them. Bucky liked Sam and Natasha the best, an Steve was okay with that as long as they didn’t get too friendly, he was the one Bucky should be closest to, not them.

Bucky sat beside him and Steve was sure to keep his hand on Bucky's knee the whole time, a gesture to the avengers around him and anyone in the bar that Bucky was most defiantly his.

It was...fun, Bucky was happy, and that meant Steve was too. The other avengers relaxed after a few drinks, no longer terrified they would say something to piss him off. It was all going well, there was one guy at the bar that had looked at Bucky for a bit too long for Steve’s liking, anything more than two seconds and it was considered checking him out. Steve responded my tugging Bucky into a very dominant kiss, one that left Bucky dopy looking and blushing. The guy got the message and turned away.

Pepper and Tony giggled away, discussing their wedding plans loud enough for the whole table to hear. They were spending thousands on flowers, just the flowers, the wedding would easily run into sky high prices but they threw figures around like it was nothing.  
It soured Steve’s smile, he had got by on virtually nothing when it was him and his mum, they scraped and saved till the day she died and Tony threw money around like it didn’t matter---

“Jesus...”

Steve squeezed Bucky’s knee, wondering why he’d let out that word, “what is it?”

Bucky shook his head, but Steve clutched at his leg again to get him to speak.  
“It’s just...money...y’know. getting married shouldn’t be about...money.”

Tony waved his hand in the air, getting Bucky’s attention, “really? ‘n how would you do it bud?”

Steve shifted uncomfortably, not liking Tony’s tone, but it had been a good night and he didn’t want to ruin it by throwing Tony out a window.

“I dunno...I’d be happy getting married in Vegas, with-with an Elvis impersonator....”

Tony barked a laugh and shook his head at Bucky’s answer, but all Steve could do was smile fondly, especially when Bucky kept going.

“It’s about loving someone...not about how much stuff costs, how many people you want, what huge mansion you want it in...if anything...things like that cheapen getting married, people lose sight of what it’s about...loving someone... the two of you..”

My god he loved Bucky Barnes...Steve’s was grinning like an idiot just thinking it.

The table stuttered to silence, Tony nodded his head in thought...”So what you’re saying is... you really, really love Elvis...”

Bucky laughed and Steve followed, unable to help it much to the obvious shock of everyone at the table.

“Did I just make Steve Rogers laugh...” Tony asked, edging his luck.

The window idea was looking more and more favourable until Bucky leaned close to Steve’s ear.  
“Can we go back?”

Bucky’s hand had slid up his leg, high on his thigh suggestively. 

“Birthday sex...” Natasha called after them, and Steve couldn’t help but be excited by that idea, by finally getting his hands on Bucky after sitting in a bar with a hard on for the past hour.

He really did brush up good, but Steve always preferred him out of the clothes , away from others prying eyes. He made a point of ‘accidently’ stepping on the foot of the man that had been eyeing Bucky. Bucky was his, and if people didn’t realise that he’d have to teach them.

“You said...in the woods...you said...”  
Steve rolled his eyes, frustrated at the pause in their mad dash to undress each other. They were in the bed, which was an improvement on, in the elevator or corridor and Steve just wanted to get Bucky naked as quick as possible.

“What did I say?”Steve huffed, tearing the shirt off Bucky's body.

“That I could...if I wanted to..be your first.”

The frown on Steve’s face grew deeper, more splitting. He’d said it in jest, hadn’t actually thought Bucky would act on it, but two very big grey eyes were on him. Bucky’s chin was flicking in pleading and he leaned over expectantly.

Every fibre in Steve’s body is saying not to do it, this isn’t the way they work, but then he remembered Bucky said Brock never allowed it, wouldn’t give that part of himself over to Bucky and Steve will do anything to get one over on Brock bloody Rumlow.

“I’m yours Bucky...”

They’re like the magic words and Bucky’s face lit up, he smiled so blindingly Steve had to glance away. What the hell had he just agreed too. He’s agreed to have himself splayed out on the bed, completely at another mans mercy, but it’s not just any man its Bucky. He had to repeat that over and over, afraid he was going to sink into his memories of being weaker, held down, kicked, punched, stamped on...

The squirt of the lube bottle was so loud it stiffened Steve’s body, made him tense before Bucky’s even near him.

“You sure?”

Damn, it was obvious on his face that he’s not, he forced himself to relax, smiled up at Bucky and hauled him forward.

“Just kiss me..”

Bucky did, and god did Steve love those kisses, Bucky consuming all his senses with ease. His scent seeps in with every break in their kissing, his skin was warm, soft under touch where Steve skimmed his hands up Bucky’s back. It took all his willpower not to flip Bucky over and take control, but he had promised he would give himself to Bucky, the only man he would ever give himself to.

There was pressure, a shooting feeling and Steve couldn’t help but tense against it, shifting uncomfortably at the intrusion on his body.

“Shhh, relax...”

The role reversal was anything but relaxing, but Bucky leaned over, slotting his lips to Steve’s, and once he lets that talented tongue in his mouth he got distracted, relaxed around the pressure, letting Bucky move his finger in and out, each slide getting more comfortable, more heated and slick. He learned to love it, to shudder at the sensation, to shift and arch to follow that finger. He didn’t even realise Bucky had added more digits until Bucky told him, he was too caught up in the feeling, closing his eyes and enjoying the new sensations.

It was strange, not painful, not even uncomfortable, but different. A good different, he trusted Bucky, like he hadn’t trusted anyone, was letting himself be helpless for Bucky, and although he was apprehensive, he wasn’t fearful, or angry, or any negative emotion. It was a shock to himself how much he felt for Bucky, that he would let him have the control like that.

Bucky didn’t stop kissing him, mouth skilled and slow, and he was passionate, everything was passionate and Steve felt like Bucky was telling him he loved him with his body, with his touches..

“Ready?”

Steve nodded, not really knowing what Bucky was talking about, but then there was pressure, a feeling of being spread wide, filled. Bucky was filling him up, slotting them together with a opened mouth pant and a filthy groan.

Then he started moving, a slow rhythm gaining momentum. Bucky’s teeth sunk into his lip to stifle a moan and Steve moved to un-pop it, wanting to listen to the mans groans while Bucky takes him apart.

“Love you Steve.”

The words were like a physical punch in the chest, he’d longed to hear them, but when he was lying on his back at his most vulnerable, the words are completely unforced, their raw, real. Buckys looking at him like he’s a good person, not a monster. A person worth loving.

Steve was breathless, mouth open wanting to say something back to mark the moment, but he was unable to. Could only stare up at the man pushing into him, filling him up his body in heart and mind. 

The words and situation were an emotional overload, and Steve registered the stinging in his eyes. So uncharacteristic of himself that he reached up and wiped them in surprise. His lip was wobbling and he had no idea why, he bit down at the stupid flesh to stop it, then his whole body follows his stupid lip and he trembled with long buried weakness.  
He felt like a kid again, a defenceless one-

“Shit---Shit, Steve I’m-

The full feeling left him when Bucky pulled out, the eyes that were full of lust and desire had widened in horror, pupils dissolving down to pin-pricks on Bucky's sweaty face.

“’m sorry Steve, I didn’t mean to hurt you...”

Steve wanted to say something back, but his ability to speak has jumped ship, he could only stare at the ceiling while Bucky rocked on his knees guilty next to him, mumbling that he was sorry.

“Say it again...”Steve croaked, rubbing at his suddenly tight throat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-

Steve bolted up right, startling Bucky to silence, “not that...what you said before.”

Steve watched the realisation dawn on Bucky’s face, his mouth opened a few times with no noise, then he blurted, “I love you...”

They made a swell of happiness bloom in Steve, he chuckled at how stupid he was being, but those three words, he felt them. Every sappy movie he’s ever seen, he always rolled his eyes at those words, at the moment between two people. But when Bucky had said it, when he was looking pathetic and weak on his back, he felt it. Bucky loved him, actually loved him.

Love singing and swelling in his body soon turned to desperate desire, a thirst that only Bucky’s body could quench.

Steve pounced, forcing Bucky onto his back and hiking the back of knees over his shoulders, mouth finding its target with ease. He shoved his face between Bucky’s cheeks, nuzzling the skin, licking and kissing desperately, and Bucky was lost in needy gasps. Steve’s hands were stroking Bucky’s cock, both thumbs rubbing small circles on the seam. He wasn’t going to tease it out, wanted Bucky to come as quick as possible, push him over the cliff of bliss and he didn’t disappoint.

The only warning was a choked sound, Bucky’s whole body tensing violently and he was coming. Shooting onto his chest with trembling limbs.

Steve dropped Bucky’s legs from around his neck, clambering up the bed. Bucky’s sticky chest heaved, and he wore a ridiculous awed expression. His hand moved to wipe away the splash of cum on his chin but Steve stopped him, held the limb to the bed and leaned over, licking warm come from Bucky’s skin, feeding it into his mouth as they kissed.

“’m gunna have you now...”

It wasn’t a question but Bucky nodded, shifting his hips to a more comfortable position.

“Say it again...”

“What?”  
Steve rolled his eyes, but blamed Bucky’s post-orgasm state on why he had no brain activity.

“I love you.” Bucky said with a frown, and Steve reward him with a jolt of his hips, fast but smooth all the way to the hilt. There was a long drawn out groan from Bucky, and Steve laughed, ducking down to slot their mouths together. He didn’t move his hips though, kept himself deep but didn’t thrust back out.

“Say it again....”

Bucky did with another frown and Steve chuckled, pulling out then diving back into his heated body. The lightening moment pinged in Bucky’s head and he was saying the words, over and over to get Steve to fuck him.

The longer it went on the less sense Bucky made, he slurred his words and each time he didn’t say the words with clarity, Steve stopped, smiling fondly at the man beneath him, at his frustrated whines and his needy begs.

“Gotta say it so I hear...”

He was being a bastard, but he loved hearing Bucky say it, loved taking his time fucking Bucky. They were both sweaty messes, Bucky’s hair had stuck in clumps on his forehead. His lips had dried from his panting. He looked just about perfect.

Bucky growled suddenly, shoving his hands to Steve’s chest to get him off. Momentarily stunned, Steve did as Bucky wanted, pulling out of him. Bucky shoved at him again, pushing Steve on his back, propped up on his elbows.

“I said I love you punk...”

Bucky straddled him, a desperate hand got between their body’s, Bucky lining himself up, dropping down smoothly, with a groan.

He gave Bucky control, not quite in the way he first intended, but Bucky impaled himself at his own speed, at his own angle. His head was thrown back, eyes shut and mouth gaping and it was just about the most sexual thing Steve had ever seen.

He was still chanting ‘I love you’ over and over, even though he didn’t have to. The words became a gasping chant as he rode Steve mercilessly. Steve leaned back on the headboard, hands at his side, just watching Bucky go to town on him.

His release built, he felt it, tried to keep it at bay so he could enjoy watching Bucky pleasure himself with his cock, but he couldn’t help but start to be overrun by the evitable orgasm. Bucky tight around him, jumping up and down on him looking wrecked. The words didn’t even make sense anymore, broken by desperate moans, hitching gasps, but Steve knew what he was trying to say, over and over, to make him happy. Bucky loved him.

He sunk back into the headboard and stopped trying to fight it, let pleasure take hold of him, tingling in ecstasy as he emptied himself, spurting inside Bucky who kept going, riding Steve till his cock was dry, till the tip throbbed from over sensitivity. Bucky took him passed that mild uncomfortableness, chasing his own release like a rampant animal.

Steve moved a hand to take his cock to aid his efforts but Bucky batted it away with a growled no. He didn’t want his cock touched, was enjoying the focused attention on his prostate too much.

Steve rubbed his fingers round where they joined, the stretched opening of Bucky’s body that was dropping down on his still hard cock. That got a shudder, a full on shudder that prickled Bucky’s flesh into sensitive dots. He did it again, catching his nails around the rim and scratching slightly at the taunt flesh. Another shudder accompanied by a needy whine, he did it again, rubbing on Bucky's tender flesh.

Then Bucky was coming, cock untouched, just from fucking Steve’s cock and fingers rubbing his stretched hole, the sexiest sight Steve had ever seen, and that was saying something when him and Bucky had fucked so much.

Come splattered on his chest, Bucky still sat on him panting like there was no oxygen in the room. He collapsed forward, sweaty and sticky with his forehead on Steve’s shoulder. Steve ran his hand up his back, pulling him closer, brushing a hand through his sweaty hair.

Steve could’ve cried with sheer happiness at the moment. He stared at Bucky’s face, and he turned, still panting with his eyes shut.

“You want me to say it again don’t you?”  
His voice croaked, his body sagged, but he still held the power in the situation, could tell how badly Steve wanted those words again.

“I’ll say it if...”

“If?” Steve questioned, tensing at Bucky bargaining.

“You take me to the shower...wash me up...wrap me in a big towel and take me to bed...”

Steve cocked his jaw, sighing breezily along Bucky’s collar bone.

“Fine...”

After doing all the things he was asked to, he was tugged down on the bed, Bucky slotted behind him and repeated those three stupid words that Steve never realised could mean so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think its about time I burst Bucks bubble and he finds out Brock aint so bad....


	12. Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks hugely for comments and Kudos!  
> Unbeta'd, mistakes painfully mine.  
> almost over!
> 
> I guess in my head this happens about a month after the previous chapter...so they did have so good time before....

Bucky walked out the care home with a smile splitting his face. So shocked to be grinning like a moron, he poked his own cheeks to feel how they’d rounded into apples. He was happy, like actually happy for the first time in years. He had a good first week back at the care home, and was heading back to the tower, back to the apartment, back to Steve.

“Mr Barnes---

Bucky span on the spot, fixing his stupid smile to the suited man before dropping it self-consciously. It’s wasn’t normal to be grinning to himself like he was, he looked bloody manic.

“What’s up?” He asked.

The suited man smiled tightly, flicking his chin at the vehicle, “ride back to the tower...”

Bucky frowned at the vehicle behind, shinny black car with all its windows in shadow, “’m okay..I’ll get the sub.”

“Tony Stark insisted I pick you up.”

Tony never mentioned anything about sending a car, neither did Steve. Bucky couldn’t help the smile creeping across his lips. Hope bloomed in his chest that Steve was in the blacked out car, waiting for him. 

Bucky’s face flashed hot, remembering the last time they had been in a car together, a few weeks before. Steve had taken him to some ballet performance. It had been nice, a wonder to watch until the interval, when all Bucky could think about was getting Steve back to the apartment and getting him naked.

They didn’t stay for the rest of the performance, and they didn’t make it back to the apartment. A quick fondle in the car turned to a lot more, fast.

Steve had growled towards the driver to find a spot to pull over, telling him to fuck the fuck off or else. 

Sex in the car had been clumsy, uncomfortable at times with cramped muscles, but it had been passionate, both desperate to get each other naked, not caring about the state they left the back in afterwards.  
A repeat of that...well it was more than welcome.

 

Before he was even aware of it Bucky was at the car, tugging on the handle, giddy laugh threatening to bubble out.  
It was disappointingly empty, but Bucky slumped inside anyway, fixing his belt in place and waiting for the driver to do the same.

“Back to the tower.” His cheer wasn’t met by the driver who stared blankly at him, “okaaaay then...”

They were going an odd route to the tower, but Bucky didn’t question it, he wriggled his back into the leather and flung his head up to the roof. Exhausted after a full day of work, but happy, fulfilled.

His wrist was on the mend, no longer needing a cast. It ached, especially when he overworked it, or when it was cold, but he was able to do his job again, write on clipboards, push beds, slip in cannulas. He could function again, and going back to work made him complete, happy to be sharing other peoples memories again, feeling like he mattered. They told Bucky about their lives, their family’s, their loves and Bucky could share a bit of his happiness with them too.

The good bit of Steve rogers, the protector of America, his attentiveness and caring nature. Their relationship had been all over the news after Steve got possessive one night, shoved him up against a wall outside a bar and kissed him till his knees weakened. Warning others off he had called it, but all Bucky could do was dopily cling on.

Steve staked his claim with all the world watching, as if he wasn’t ashamed. Like he was proud to have Bucky Barnes at his side.  
Residents and staff were very keen to know what the real Captain America was like.

Of course he had to lie...a bit...there was a darkness, a possessiveness, but it was addictive to have Steve’s focus. They wanted to hear the nice stuff about Steve and he told them.

In Bucky’s head there were two separate Steve’s, and both of them had cast some kind of spell over him.

 

Bucky blinked out of his thoughts, moving his attention to the window to find out where they were, how long it would take to be back with Steve. He didn’t recognise the street, if anything he would’ve guessed the were going the opposite way to the tower. He stretched his neck, face pressed to the glass to see if he could see beyond the massive buildings to the one he wished to be in. Nope, couldn’t see it.

Bucky shoved his face between the passenger and driver seat. “So erm...where we going?”

The man darted a look at him, “it’s a surprise.”

Surprise...he stewed the idea around in his head before settling back into his seat. Steve had a surprise for him, was taking him to some discreet location. No doubt it was going to end in sex, it always did, but he didn’t know whether he would be confronted with the sweet loving Steve or the overpowering one. He didn’t know which one he’d prefer.

There was a moment, when he realised he loved both aspects of Steve’s personality, and he was tired of fighting his emotions. He’d admitted it aloud, said those silly words that felt like he was baring his soul. He loved Steve, even when he was crazed, sometimes the manic Steve was more desired than the shy one.

Bucky knew the exact moment he liked the dark Steve as much as the good one, got swept up by him.  
Steve had come back from a mission, head to toe covered in blood and the panic that seized Bucky at the sight of him made it hard to breathe, made him stumble as he rushed his way to Steve to check him over. Steve didn’t move, his eyes were huge, pupils dots, he looked drugged, disorientated.

Bucky had fanned his hands over Steve’s body, mirroring what Steve had done to him all those times before, gasping, with his eyes burning in fear. There was something wrong with Steve, he had to find out where he was hurt, stop the bleeding, make him better.  
Steve had gripped his hands, stilling his movements, whispering that it wasn’t his blood, none of it was his.

His voice was hollow, off, but the relief had been so staggering Bucky slumped forward into Steve’s wet chest, hooking his arms round his neck and muttering ‘I love you’ over and over.

None of the blood had been Steve’s, and in that moment he realised he didn’t care who’s it was as long as it wasn’t his, as long as Steve hadn’t been hurt, because the thought of him getting injured, or worse, made Bucky’s eyes sting, made his chin wobble in despair. His fear must’ve shown on his face, Steve snapped out of his dazed state and pushed his lips to Bucky’s.

Steve had undressed him, throwing his clothes away and leaving him standing bare in front of him. Then Steve had moaned his approval, roaming his hands all over Bucky, turning his pale skin red.

It should’ve made Bucky retreat disgusted, should’ve made Bucky push the other man away, but instead he stayed still and let the still clothed Steve rub up against him, cover him in the blood of the enemy Steve had called it.

He had followed as if on a leash over to the couch, Steve shuffled his pant down to his knees, sitting with his throbbing cock out and he purred for Bucky to ride him.

Reluctant, he had been reluctant when he was splattered scarlet and a metallic tinge was in the air. But he honoured Steve’s request, getting himself ready and impaling himself on Steve’s cock.

At first he couldn’t react, he did the motions but wouldn’t allow himself to enjoy them, instead stared at the ceiling, tried to ignore the pinching feeling of drying blood on his body.

“Look at me.”

Steve’s words, said with so much vulnerability that Bucky snapped his attention to Steve, to his sparkling blue eyes and his look of adoration. There was tension in Steve’s body, still hyped up from his mission, but there was softness too. Both sides of Steve’s beneath him, the man he loved entirely.

Bucky got swept up in a desperate wave from that moment, grunting and gasping alongside Steve, getting the angle perfect, he pressed his teeth together and grunted ‘yes’ through them each time he dropped down engulfing Steve. Never did he break eye contact, neither did Steve, both baring their souls to each other.

He came, untouched, all over Steve’s bloodied chest, then the other man lost it, stood up and bulldozed Bucky through the apartment into the shower, chest against the cool tiles, Steve’s skin on fire at his back, completely at the other mans mercy and there was no where he’d rather be-----

 

The car lurched to a stop, belt cutting into Bucky’s neck and making him hiss.

“We’re here...”

Still rubbing his neck, Bucky glared at the pissy driver before looking out the window, some rundown building, spray paint covering the walls and windows boarded up, not at all what he was hoping for from Steve---

“He’s inside.” The man said, flicking his head at the dirtiest building.

“Great...thas real great.” Bucky sighed, climbing out from the car and slamming it shut, no sooner had it thumped closed the wheels were spinning, car revving off in the distance.

Steve better have the inside decked out Bucky thought, maybe the outside looked trashed but the inside was beautiful, maybe he had painted it all up in watercolour for him to see.

He smiled thinking of Steve painting, no longer a cast to decorate so Bucky shyly bought a sketchpad and gave it to him.

A rare calmness expanded in Steve when he coloured, he still preferred not being watched, sometimes Bucky did just to annoy him. Steve would slip, fingers shaking under Bucky’s gaze. It was nice to see the usually focused man ruffled, unsure, but whatever he did, Bucky loved. There was a pure beauty to what Steve made.

Bucky pushed the door of the building and it creaked open. Dust was heavy in the air, cobwebs hung from the ceiling and litter was all over the floor.

He stepped over, grimacing at the sight, if anything it looked worse than the outside with glass glinting on the ground.  
“Steve?”

He continued down the corridor, pushing through the door at the end. No sign of Steve, no sign of anyone.  
He sighed, getting his phone from his pants---

“Don’t-don’t call him.”

Brock’s voice, Bucky startled forward at the sound of him, spinning around with his hands up defensively. Brock was bigger, but he wasn’t gunna go down without a fight.

“What do you want?”

Brock stepped out from the shadows, unshaven and tattered, his hands up too, but not defensively, they were pleading in gesture.  
“I want to talk, wanted to see you for so long.”

“See me?” Bucky hissed, “see me battered on some pavement, head caved in, teeth knocked out, defenceless so you can have you way with me one last time.”

The messages had stopped coming, but that didn’t mean Bucky had forgot the details, Brocks messed up fantasy’s.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Brock cried, taking a step back aghast.

Bucky shook his head, “your messages—do you hate me that much Brock—

“What messages? I don’t hate you Bucky, never will...I-I love you.”

Bucky barked a laugh, rolling his shoulders, getting ready to fight his way out, Brock was in the way of the door, it would take a solid hit to render him helpless on the floor, Nat had taught him, the best places to take someone down in one shot.

“I’d never hurt you Bucky.”

“No, you’ll just threaten me, lie to me and burn my house to the ground.”

Brock pinched the top of his nose with a sigh, “I didn’t do that---

“I saw you, I saw the CCTV!”

Brock had no answer, only bit his lip and blinked back tears, “I-I swear to you, I never did that, I wouldn’t destroy your stuff, a load of mine was there too...my autograph book---

“You seriously comparing that to everything I owned!”

“’m just saying, I wouldn’t have done it, I wasn’t there.”

Bucky twirled the watch on his wrist, Steve would be wondering where he was, getting concerned.  
“This is all very clever, tricking me to come here, but I’m gunna go now.”

“I only wanna talk, tell you I miss you. That I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. They won’t let me in the tower, but I give letters, have you got any of them?”

Bucky shook his head, “I don’t get your letters, but if there anything like your texts I don’t want them.”

Brock screwed his face up, “texts? I don’t send you any, haven’t got your number.”

Bucky huffed, he’d had enough, enough of being trapped in the room with his deluded ex boyfriend.  
“You’re a liar” He said plainly, bobbing his head and taking a step forward, “and I’m leaving now.”

“No, not yet.”  
Brock backed up till he was in the door frame and clutched at it, a human blockade in the only exit.

“Let me go.”

“No, I wanna talk, just hear me out.”

“I don’t want to!” Bucky yelled, “I don’t want to be around you.”

There were tears in Brocks eyes, his posture sagged, but he carried on regardless.  
“I got you something....”Brock reached into his pocket and Bucky immediately stepped back, anticipating a weapon. But Brock held out tickets, two tickets, “ said we should take a break...just you an me, somewhere hot...it’s after the court case, but I thought I’d ask you now.”

There was a blur of movement behind Brock and then he screamed, picked up like he weighed nothing and removed from the door way. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and the unmistakable muscled torso, Steve was there. Bucky had no idea how Steve knew where he was, or how he was able to get there so fast.

Steve looked enraged, hand tightening round Brocks throat as he held him high in the air.

“Steve stop...”

Brock was gurgling, choking on nothing. His body twitched and jerked from lack of oxygen.

“Stop!” Bucky tried, getting his legs to unstick from the shock.

He ran at Steve, gripping the arm holding Brock, yanking it with all his might.

“You’re gunna kill him.”

“Good.” Steve growled.

Brock’s skin was greying, the corners of his mouth were turning blue, and his eyes were sinking in his face.

“Please Steve, I won’t forgive you if you do this...”

The arm trembled beneath Bucky’s hands, and then it dropped. Brock landed on the floor with a thud.  
He gasped, heaving air through his crackling throat. Bucky didn’t let go of Steve’s arm, he forced the stiff limb round his shoulders, burying himself into Steve’s chest. Steve relaxed a fraction, hugging Bucky hard.

“Thank you.” He whispered in Steve’s ear. “Thank you for stopping.”

The way Steve was still tense, snorting breaths though his nostrils and the twitch of a snarl on his lips, told Bucky he was only just keeping himself under control.

“Get out of here Brock.” He said quick.

The man on the floor crawled his way along, spitting on the ground before righting himself to his knees.  
“No....”

Bucky felt the shudder of rage rattle Steve’s body, Steve tried to pull away from the hug but Bucky wouldn’t allow it, distracting Steve with a soft kiss to his mouth.

“’m not gunna leave you alone with him.” Brock announced, eyes roaming the quaking avenger.

“You were gunna take him from me.” Steve rumbled, and Bucky could see his eyes had fixed to the plane tickets on the floor.

“He can’t take me from you.” Bucky whispered, kissing up Steve’s neck.

The only way of soothing Steve at all was his mouth, the tension eased every time his lips settled on Steve’s skin.

“He’s crazy Bucky....you’re not safe with him, lets get out of here, go to the police together.” Brock begged.

Steve shook his head, muttering no under his breath before going at Brock again---

“Please Steve---

“No Bucky. I’ve tried to do it your way, tried not to kill him, but he’s still a threat. I have to.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, wound his legs round his hips and hung on. If he was going to kill Brock he would be sandwiched between the two, begging Steve the whole time not to.

“He’s no threat, I love you Steve. He won’t take me from you.”

There was anger, rage, but the twitching in Steve’s brow was fragile. His composure cracking. He wanted to kill Brock, desperately, was only holding back because of Bucky.

“Look at me Steve.”

Steve took his fierce eyes off Brock and when they met Bucky’s they immediately softened, were swamped with unwept tears.  
“I can’t lose you Bucky, not now I’ve got you, I can’t lose any of you.”

“You won’t...unless you kill him.”

Steve whined, squeezing his eyes shut and dislodging the tears from his lashes, “please let me Bucky.”

It was a plea, a broken one that Bucky couldn’t fulfil, he couldn’t let Steve kill Brock. Hearing the desperation in Steve’s voice though, it was like a punch to the gut. Both Steve’s were there at once, the fury driven one and the vulnerable, and he hated denying Steve anything, but this...this he wouldn’t allow.

“Get out of here Brock!” Bucky yelled.

“You’re kidding right? I can’t walk out of here knowing your trapped with him.”

“I’m not trapped with him...” If he had to hurt Brock with words to get him to leave the situation, he would. “I was trapped with you, I didn’t love you Brock, would lie to you and tell you I did...but I didn’t...I couldn’t....turns out we’re both liars---

“I’ve not lied to you Bucky---

“The house fire, your criminal record, the messages....”  
Brock frowned, Bucky thought he was just confused how Bucky knew about the criminal record and fire.  
“I know the real you now...” He whispered to Brock.

Steve shifted, deadly mask settling on his face again. There was only so many times he was going to be able to stop Steve breaking Brocks neck.

“I love Steve Rogers, the monster and all...never contact me again Brock...if you do...” He swallowed uncomfortably before continuing, “I’ll let him kill you.”

Steve sagged slightly, accepting Bucky’s bargain. His hands gripped at Bucky’s hips possessively, hard enough to bruise.  
“I’ll rip you limb from limb if you go within a mile of him again.” Steve spat.

Bucky chose that as a victory, he had successfully subdued Steve, all he needed was for Brock to get the hint and get out, leave before Steve changed his mind.  
Bucky unwrapped his aching legs from Steve’s waist, standing and leaning into Steve’s body. 

“Leave.” He said, but Brock just wobbled his head in reply.

Steve’s attention tracked over to Brock growing agitated before Bucky coaxed his focus back again. Steve couldn’t make up his mind whether to glare at Brock or look intently at Bucky.

He still looked uncertain, a welling sadness in his face. Worried, Steve was worried, and Bucky did his best to reassure him with a small smile.

“Love you.” Bucky said, and Steve swayed forward, resting his forehead to Bucky’s one with a weary sigh.

“Love you too Buck, so fucking much.” Steve whimpered, gripping Bucky even harder, and brushing his nose along Bucky’s one.

“Not love,” Brock croaked, “how can this be love? He’s all wrong for you Bucky.”

Steve tensed up, jaw jutting, teeth pressing together. Needing to satisfy his bloodlust but not wanting to dislodge Bucky from his arms.

Bucky solved his indecision by pushing their mouths together, opening his lips so Steve could deepen the kiss and slip his tongue inside.

One of Steve’s hands went to his hair, the other held the side of his face, both were roaming, both gripping and dominating.  
Words hadn’t worked, Bucky hoped Brock would get uncomfortable at the face fucking and leave. But there was no creak of floor boards, no shift from the figure on the ground. 

He tried to slow the kiss to a stop, growing uncomfortable the longer their display went on. Steve didn’t allow it, backed him into the wall and lapped at his mouth, nipping at Bucky’s bottom lip. Groaning enthusiastically, rutting against him desperately.  
At least that was better than Steve desperately wanting to murder his ex boyfriend...  
He loved Steve’s kisses, but couldn’t get lost in the feeling, not when Brock was right there, still sat rubbing his neck on the floor.

“Steve I...”

Steve muffled any protest with his mouth, kissing forcefully.  
His hands no longer gripped Bucky’s head, but trailed down, getting under his t-shirt so they could scratch his skin.  
He shuddered at the sensation, but didn’t moan at it like he usually did, Steve cupped Bucky’s crotch with a palm, but at most, Bucky had a flagging semi.

“Not with him there-

Steve growled, not impressed. He ground his hips into Bucky’s thigh, letting him feel how his cock was straining after their kiss. Any other time and that would’ve been Bucky’s undoing, he would’ve rushed to undress Steve and get his hands round him, but with Brock still there...

“You started this Bucky....I’m gunna finish it.” Steve whispered.

He gripped the bottom of Bucky’s shirt, yanking it off his body. It got snagged around Bucky’s eyes, he went to remove it but Steve hushed him, pulling his hands away.

“Keep it there.”

He did, it at least helped a little bit not being able to see Brock on the floor. Steve was going to have his way, he was a master at playing Bucky’s body, and the end result was enviable. Resisting was futile.  
Brock would bolt as soon as things got more intimate...that’s what he hoped, what he prayed.

It had been his plan to get Brock to go, to kiss Steve and let Bock see for real Bucky wanted to be right where he was, with Steve. It wasn’t supposed to go this far, but Steve was touching his chest, making hot trails with his tongue across Bucky’s collar bone, and he was trying so hard to keep himself under control.

“H-has he gone....?”

There was a pause, before Steve’s breath tickled the edge of his ear, “yeah...he’s gone...”

Bucky relaxed back into the wall, finally giving over his body to Steve’s sucking mouth and mapping hands. He went to remove his make shift blind-fold but Steve stopped him again.

“Keep it on....just enjoy me Bucky like you always do.”

The lack of vision made him focus on sensation, on the feel of Steve’s hands on his body, the softness of his mouth. The scent of the man invading every breath like a cocktail of drugs. The sounds and gasps of Steve’s appreciation, and his own moans at being caressed. Everything good was heightened, seeing the desolate room would’ve only distracted him from how good Steve made him feel.

“You’re so sexy like this Buck...”

Steve was attacking his pants, yanking them down and nuzzling his face to Bucky’s crotch, he couldn’t help but pant, knowing what was going to happen next, Steve was going to plunge him into warmth, suck at him and swirl his tongue in just the right way.  
But Steve didn’t remove the shorts, he brushed his face along Bucky’s staining cock, kissing firmly but never enough until Bucky thought he was going to cry.

“Please.” He wailed, moving his hands down to expose himself. “god Steve...”

Steve gripped onto Bucky’s wrists, held them next to his hips on the wall.  
“Ask me again.”

He did, begged for Steve to take the caressing to the next level, not have the fabric barrier between his cock and Steve’s mouth.

“So perfect...” Steve purred.

Bucky didn’t know how exactly, but Steve managed to tug down his shorts, judging by the growl and snap of the waist band, he imagined Steve had used his teeth, tore the fabric back to release him.

Steve let go of his wrists and instead of removing the blindfold all he could think of doing was gripping Steve’s head and thrusting into his mouth.

He did, grunting and gasping, chasing the release Steve was finally going to give him. Steve loved when Bucky lost control, when he needed it that badly.

He came with a howl, letting go into Steve’s suckling mouth. Waves of bliss swayed in his head, making him dizzy. Gravity called him to the floor and he sunk down, Steve caught him before he could hit the ground.

“You’re mine and I’m yours.” Steve mumbled, and Bucky nodded eagerly in agreement.

The t-shirt round his head was tugged at by Steve, and Bucky blinked the room back into focus. Brock was thankfully gone, but Steve did smile smugly towards the door, as if he had only recently passed through.

“He goes near you again...I get to kill ‘im.”

Bucky nodded, praying Brock would have the sense not to try.  
Steve held him, lips brushing all over Bucky’s face, not in a kiss, but a gentle touch, it calmed Bucky, made him sink into Steve’s body.

“Let’s get home.” Steve told him, rearranging Bucky’s clothes and putting the t-shirt over his head.

Work, and the emotional stress and the release, all had exhausted Bucky and he let Steve help him out, clinging close to him.  
Steve called them a car, getting into the back and tugging Bucky into his arm, to hell with the seatbelt, he didn’t need it with Steve clutching at him, keeping him in place. 

The slight crinkle in Steve’s eyes and the snarling smile tugging his lips unnerved him. Bucky could see the lingering rage.

“I meant what I said...no one can take me from you.” Bucky tried, hoping to remove the plotting look Steve was wearing.

Steve seemed to realise his features were twisted into a strange expression and immediately dropped it, leaning in and kissing Bucky’s temple softly.  
“I know that Buck, even if you wanted to leave I wouldn’t let you.”

Steve kissed him again, as if what he said was romantic, it sounded damn right sinister but Bucky let it go, relaxing into the muscled chest at his back.

He drifted, must’ve, the next time he startled to awareness Steve was carrying him into the tower. When he noticed Bucky was awake, he set him down.

“Sorry...erm...”

Steve shook his head and Bucky snapped his mouth shut, “don’t be sorry, you were exhausted...go up to the apartment, get a coffee and wake yourself up, I want you waiting for me and ready when I get there.”

Bucky’s cheeks glowed red at that and Steve moved to pinch one.

“I’ll be up soon...you don’t have long.” He said with a wink.

Bucky nodded, cleared his throat and backed up a step, not before glancing down at Steve’s tented pants.  
“Yeah...I’ll do...that.”

He moved away, shooting a look over his shoulder.

That expression Steve was trying to rid himself of was back, Bucky frowned at him before nodding the once and moving towards the elevator.

When he next turned back, Steve had gone---

“You really are stupid...”  
Sharon strutted over with a frustrated sigh. He hadn’t even realised she had been watching, listening.

“Sorry what?” Bucky asked, ignoring the ding of the elevator.

“You...your an idiot...Brocks a good man...”

She put emphases on good, as if a good person would send threats and commit arson, let alone bash peoples teeth in.

“I thought so too, but he-

“Sends love letters to the tower, hovers outside till security warn him off.”

He should’ve ignored her and walked into the elevator, knows he should, but he doesn’t. He stood there, and tried to explain about the facade that was Brock Rumlow.

“He’s a brute...coming here to carry out what he threatens.”

She laughed, a cackle was more accurate, like some pantomime witch, “threats? Texts from him right.”

That made him jerk forward, balancing himself on the wall. He hadn’t told anyone about the messages, not even Steve.

“How do you know that?” 

“He’s not the one sending them.”

Bucky turned towards her, pulling his lip back in disgust, “is it you...”

“See, you really are stupid James. It’s Steve...he took Brocks phone.”

It wasn’t true, there was no way it was...yet Bucky remembered the look on Brocks face, the confusion about the messages, swearing he’d never sent any...

“Steve, he wouldn’t...”

He doesn’t blame her for rolling her eyes. Sending violent messages isn’t exactly beyond Steve...but he’s never seen the phone, never seen Steve typing away on any cell.

“Why don’t you ask him...”

That was exactly what he was going to do, find Steve and ask him outright...he needed Steve to deny it, talk him round before doubt set in. Sharon had to be wrong,...if it wasn’t Brock, maybe some other loser had got hold of the phone, trying to upset him, but not Steve...  
He turned away from Sharon, stalking the most likely route Steve had gone, he asked Jarvis and the A.I was quick to tell him where Steve was. In one of the many gyms... He went straight there, stealthily, not sure why he was making a conscious effort to be quiet.

Back to the wall, he slid along, keeping out of sight.

He heard Steve, two other voices too, Sam’s and Tony’s. He crept nearer, they were all engrossed in conversation and didn’t notice him. Whatever it was about, Sam wasn’t happy, Steve growled words, none of which Bucky could pick out. The way Sam’s shoulders drooped, made Bucky frown, his body language was that of a kid being told to do something by an angry parent. Steve was just about the most terrifying possible angry parent.

“Steve...I don’t wanna hurt him.”

Bucky pressed himself harder into the wall, no longer stretching to see round the corner, listening was enough.

“Don’t touch him, if you hurt a hair on his head, I’ll kill you.”

There was an exasperated sigh from Sam, the sound of him collapsing down onto a bench.

“Then what are you asking me to do?”

“Same as last time, wear the mask, just-just threaten him...I’ll tell you what to say.”

Bucky’s stomach felt like it dropped to his toes, he knew Steve was talking about him, his name wasn’t spoken but he just knew. Steve was asking Sam to threaten him, in disguise--

“Then what?”

“Leave, vanish, take the mask off...things go back to normal...better than normal.”

It made no sense, why would Steve be plotting this-

“And what happens to Brock?”  
It was the first time Tony had spoke, his voice tight and defeated. Brock, it was about Brock, the guy only an hour ago Bucky had dismissed-

“I get to kill him, he said I could if he went near him again.”

The cogs of his addled brain finally slotted together and he gets it, Steve’s fucked up plan. He was desperate to get rid of the competition, how could there be any competition, he doesn’t want Brock, doesn’t want the violent, fire obsessed----  
Bucky’s jaw unhinged, a breathless gasp escaped his mouth. Brock didn’t do any of that stuff, of course he didn’t. This is all some messed up game, he’s been nothing but a puppet dancing to Steve’s tune, doing exactly what he wants.

“How could you!”

He shouted the words, not even poking his head round the corner to look at Steve when he yelled them. He shouted them loud enough, the whole floor above probably heard him.

His house, all his stuff gone up in flame, turned to ash. It was never Brock, but---Sam?

Bucky pushed himself off the wall, rounding the corner on the three stunned men. Steve’s eyes had gone wide, no longer in control, not sure what to do, but Bucky’s attention wasn’t on him, it was fixed to Sam.

“You burned my house down?”

Its not really a question, Bucky didn’t even know why he said it as if it was one. It was all made more clear when Sam’s face scrunched in pain, he leaned forward and stared at the floor.  
Good, Bucky thought, glad Sam felt bad for what he’d done, he should feel bad, more than fucking bad. He turned his attention to Tony, if Sam looked guilty, Tony looked about ready to drop to his knees and beg forgiveness.

“That criminal record....fake?”

Again, he lifted the last word like a question, as if hoping Tony would say he was wrong, explain the situation away. Please, he wanted to be wrong about everything.

“Yes...I...made it up.”

At least he owned up to it, Sam’s was still rocking on the bench.

“And you...” He finally turned to Steve who was still frozen in place, “you sent all those messages, threatening to hurt me, kill me in creative ways, rape me when I was unable to defend myself.”

The others both gaped at Steve, as if they were unaware that was going on, but they’d all been pretty good actors, they could’ve still been lying.  
Steve hadn’t moved, still shell-shocked at Bucky appearing, his skin had paled, his blue eyes shook left to right, he was completely out of his depth. Not speaking, not moving. He looked afraid.

“Well?” Bucky demanded, the aggression snapped Steve from his daze.

His eyes narrowed, his jaw cocked, and he spoke with utter coldness.  
“If you’d of just told me, when you got the first text...”

“What?”

“The first message, the second....All the sick stuff he was saying----

Bucky felt like he was going crazy, that was what Steve had focused on, the messages, as if Bucky was the one at fault.

“He wasn’t saying it though, it was all you!”

Steve went on, as if he hadn’t heard what Bucky said, “you must’ve still had feelings for him, if you kept the phone, didn’t tell me what he was saying...you must’ve still...cared for him. You kept that link to him in case you wanted to leave me.”

Bucky shook his head, scrunching his brow, “I don’t want Brock...I didn’t tell you coz I knew you’d go crazy.”

“I would’ve sorted it----

“You would’ve killed him.”

“Yes.” Steve snarled, “Like I should’ve done from the beginning!”

Bucky backed away a step, he’d heard enough, his head ached, his limbs felt drained. He had to get away, from Steve, from the people he had thought were his friends. A whole bunch of liars, he was kept in the dark again, all plotting against him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Steve whispered, aggression all gone, and fear in its place.

“You really think I’m gunna stay.”

“I’m not letting you go...you’re mine.”

Bucky hissed at the statement he’d learned to love, Steve declaring Bucky belonged to him, and he belonged to Bucky.  
He shook his head, backing away. Sam had gripped on to Steve’s arm, asking him to calm down. He threw him off, stalking over.

Bucky ran, logically, he should’ve gone for the front of the tower, ran out in the street so everyone could see the real Steve, manhandling and dragging him back into the tower.  
But instead he asked Jarvis to take him to their apartment floor, begged the A.I to shut the elevator before Steve could get in.  
He gasped in surprise when Jarvis did just that, the door dented with two fist shapes, but move up anyway.

“Thank you.” He breathed aloud.

 

He got into the apartment in a daze, not paying attention to anything going on. He had to...process...had to leave? Steve promised not to play anymore games with him and he’d been lying, playing one all along. 

How do you go through the motion of leaving someone, you pack a bag...that’s the first thing you do. Bucky tugged a bag from the kitchen cupboard, heading into the bedroom to collect some clothes. Wherever he was going he would need clothes right?  
He stared at the drawers, him and Steve’s stuff put away together, the room was an equal mix of both of them, not how his house had been when he was with Brock, he hated Brock asking for a drawer, hated him subtly leaving his toothbrush. But when he looked in the bathroom, saw his and Steve’s together, saw the body wash and the shampoo on the side...he liked using Steve’s, liked smelling of him. 

He stopped his half-hearted walk out, as angry and as torn apart as he felt, he knew he wasn’t going to leave. Not because Steve would find him, but because he loved that crazy-assed man. Had a taste of what real love felt like and he didn’t want to turn away from it.

He hated Steve, but he loved him more, and the thought of walking out the tower, away from his life, had his heart tumbling down to his feet so he could personally trample it. That was what he’d do, if he walked out the tower, he’d squash his heart, make it unsalvageable.  
Steve Rogers had won whatever game he was unaware they were playing. He had Bucky’s heart, his soul, his body. It all belong to Steve and Bucky wanted it to. 

“Fuck!” he yelled at the wall, not knowing what to so next. 

He loved Steve, would always, but that didn’t mean he wanted Steve to get away with everything, didn’t mean he wouldn’t let him sweat. Steve had manipulated him, lied, he needed to understand how badly that hurt.

“You can’t leave...”

Bucky was stood staring at his not-packed bag. He hadn’t even heard the door to the apartment open.

“Why shouldn’t I leave?”

“I love you Bucky...and you love me---”

“How could I love a liar, a manipulator.....the way this all started Steve, you drugging me and doing as you pleased...how could I ever be okay with that...”

He didn’t mean for it to sound like a denial, Bucky was sure that would be how Steve took it, but he was thinking aloud, speaking to his stupid self. He did love Steve the liar and manipulator, he looked back on the beginning with a shiver, not in disgust at what Steve did, but remembering, that stupid drug in his system and Steve making him feel so good, it was pleasure after pleasure at the cabin. If Steve was crazy, then Bucky must’ve been crazier, for knowing all the shit he had done, and still loving him regardless.

“You...you do Love me Bucky....”

There was a quiver in Steve’s voice but Bucky didn’t want to see him yet, he continued to stare down at their unmade bed, Steve had been desperate for affection that morning, hadn’t let Bucky go till they’d had a vigorous make out session. He had pretended to be annoyed about it, but he wasn’t, how could he ever be annoyed with Steve’s mouth slotting over his.

“Are you even sorry Steve, for lying to me, for all the shit you’ve put me through?”

“The end justifies the means....you love me...that was all I wanted.”

Love, Steve’s messed up idea of love, but as gutting as it was, his plan had worked, Steve had got what he wanted.

“I don’t,” He said it to hurt, wanted Steve to feel it just for a minute the agony of his own heart, “I don’t love you.” He said savagely.  
His voice didn’t wobble, it was steel, but tears slid down his cheeks, his lips wobbled after saying the words, hearing his own lie, he felt sick with it, his stomach sloshing angrily. He was so upset at Steve for lying, and he’s doing it himself, trying to hurt the man at his back.

Steve’s hands were on his hips, not clutching, just resting. There was a weight between Bucky’s shoulder blades, where Steve was resting his forehead.

“Please Bucky...I need to hear you say it.”

He sounded broken, terrified, and there was a bit of Bucky that was happy about that. Glad Steve can actually feel despair. It was so shocking and raw, Bucky decided to keep it going a bit longer, to make Steve feel his own anguish. 

“Maybe you’re not the only good liar.” He said coldly, and Steve albeit sobbed at his back. The hands on him slid round, not grabbing, just holding Bucky in a weak hug. “Maybe I’ll never love you, not after this...”

“P-please Buck, I can’t lose this, can’t lose what we’ve got.”

Bucky didn’t reply, keeping Steve hanging, he deserved it, deserved to suffer. Steve was trembling so bad it shook Bucky’s back, he could feel the shaking through his whole body. There was an irritating wetness to his back, Steve’s tears soaking through the material.  
He was on verge of soothing Steve, saying those words but Steve pulled away sniffling.

“I’m sorry.” He said, it sounded almost real, like Steve really meant it, “I’m sorry about all that I did, I’m sorry I can’t take any of it back, I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you. I love you so much Bucky, would do anything to keep you, will do anything to keep you....I-I’m gunna fix this.”  
Bucky shifted in their odd embrace, Steve’s hands had climbed higher, mapping his pecs and neck.

“How, how can you fix this?”

“’m gunna make you love me.”

Bucky’s chest felt tight, he doesn’t need to ‘make’ him love Steve, he already does, can’t love anyone other than Steve, but it was curiosity that stopped him from saying it, he wanted to know how Steve was gunna make it up to him, how he thinks they can move forward.

“How? How you gunna do that?”

Bucky swayed forward in their odd hug, trying to turn, but then Steve’s arms clamped around and held him in place.

“Start again...”Steve sobbed, pushing his face forward again, not into Bucky’s back but the base of his neck, resting his lips there.

“We can’t just start again...” Bucky whispered.

Not to mention he didn’t want to, the past few months have had there fucking awful moments, but also good ones, more than good, bloody damn-perfect ones. He didn’t want to draw a line in all that had happened, he can’t blank it all out, he doesn’t want to. 

“Yes we can Buck...that’s the great thing...all the shit I’ve done that’s hurt you, I will take it away, make you forget it...make you love me.”

The movement from Steve’s gracefully hands was so sudden, so quick. They were round his neck, squeezing. Bucky jerked forward alarmed, but unable to shake off Steve’s grip.  
There was pressure, he clutched at the arm cutting his air supply, scratched his nails into it.

He wanted to shout Steve, wanted to fight, but Steve held him like his struggles were nothing, he was a helpless sparrow and Steve was a massive eagle casually gripping with its talons.  
Bucky’s head hurt, dizziness expanded, all his limbs felt heavy, pulling him down--

“I just wanted you to love me, need you to love me.”

He does, Bucky screamed in his head, he loved Steve, wished he’d have fucking said it rather than torment the unhinged man.  
His vision went spotty, black expanded from the sides and his head dropped down onto Steve’s arm, no fight left. Steve was repeating that he loved him and was sorry, over and over, but the words all merged together into a hum. He couldn’t feel anything, not even pain anymore, he was falling away, drifting from his own head.

Unconsciousness wrapped its coils around him and everything muffled to nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's Not Dead!  
> But oh dear....not wise to upset Steve...
> 
> Now, whether to end in Bucky's POV or Steves....hmmm....


	13. The monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its done yay!
> 
> Thank you Nonush for being beta on these parts :)
> 
> The main ending is this one, called 'the monster' but I wrote another ending which is after this one called 'the man'.
> 
> They are both stucky endings.
> 
> I would described this one as a happy ending and the other as a messed-up-happy ending...

He tried not to feel bad, tried not to think of himself as the monster, but he was. The thing that was most precious to him in the whole world...he was about to damage it on purpose, just to keep it.

Bucky was behind him, unconscious on the chair. There were straps to pin his arms, his legs, his torso; but Steve didn’t use them, this wasn’t some Frankenstein monster creation. This was Bucky, and he wasn’t going to pin him like some helpless dog. Instead, he administered a paralysing drug; Bucky would look almost peaceful while it happened, no fighting against restraints, or trembling-with-fear flesh. He would appear almost as if he was lounging, comfortably laying while the chair fried his brain, burned away the bad memories so Steve could start again with new ones.

Paralysed like that, it almost looked self-sacrificing. That’s what Steve tried to convince himself. Bucky had given himself up to this all the times he had announced he belonged to Steve, said he loved him. It may’ve been a lie, might’ve been him trying to survive, but now-- now Steve could make it reality, he knew enough about the man in the chair to seduce him, had taken him on dates the past month that Bucky had enjoyed; Steve relished in taking control of his body, his sexual appetite matched the man in the chair, there was obvious want in Bucky’s eyes when he looked at Steve, he found him pleasing on the eye, it would be easy seducing him, convincing him they were lovers.

He just had to get the chair out the way, clamp the device round Bucky’s head and press start.

Steve knew it hurt. He had tested it on enough Hydra prisoners to know it hurt; they screamed like children, terrified and sobbing. He couldn’t bear to hear Bucky sound that way, didn’t want to hear his begs and shouts, his agony manifesting in echoing yells. No, that would’ve made him insane, made him rip his own ears off not to hear, gorge his own eyes out not to see. This...this was the best way to do it. He was just waiting for Bucky to wake, the brainwaves to be right, before he could continue with his plan.

Bucky’s eyes flashed open, disorientated and spinning. Bucky couldn’t move his neck, so Steve moved into his eye level, looking down at him. Touching his face tenderly, pads of fingers moving softly over his skin, mapping his face. Bucky didn’t smile, he couldn’t smile, but his features weren’t scrunched in a negative emotion, his face muscles were all relaxed, he looked almost peaceful, laying there, letting Steve touch him and lean in to press soft kisses to his skin.

Bucky didn’t look afraid. He gazed up, eyes still fluttering and unfocused. Then he blinked in quick succession, irises darting left to right manically. Steve guessed that was the moment Bucky tried to move, tried to speak, tried to do anything but stare up into Steve’s eyes.

“’s okay Buck....”

The erratic tracking movements stopped, froze on Steve once again, and this time there was terror blaring and Steve had to back away, rid himself of that gaze. He never wanted Bucky to look at him like that, not even when he kidnapped him did Bucky look that frightened. 

“I-I can’t be without you...I love you so much Buck...”

Steve watched from a distance, as Bucky’s eyes roamed the space above him, realising where he was by the light shining down on him, the odd way he was positioned. Steve knew he had seen the chair. Tony had explained how it worked to Bucky, but he didn’t tell him the agonising pain it administered, though.

“I swore I’d never hurt you, but...I got to do this, it’s a few minutes...and then I’ll make everything better again, I’ll get you to love me. It’s all I ever wanted.”

It hurt to say. Steve spun on the spot, facing the opposite direction and gripping his blonde strands, yanking at them ‘till he was sure his scalp was bleeding. He loved Bucky with his entire being, and he was about to hurt him, push him into the depths of agony and burn away a part of him.

“You’re right Buck...when you called me a monster...I am one, I’m about to do the most monstrous thing I can imagine...”

Steve laughed lightly, all the bad shit he had done, the murder and the torture, he’d never felt guilty like this, his stomach squirmed in self-disgust and nervousness. His palms were sweating, actually sweating, but the biggest giveaway of his conflict was him hesitating, not getting started on Bucky, not tapping the computer in front of him.

The door whined on its hinges, Steve spun towards the sound, locking eyes on the person who had just burst in, the person who would dare to interrupt him.

Sharon stood, mouth hanging open, “Steve? What the hell...”

Her hand smacked to her lips and she gasped through her fingers.

“Get out.” Steve growled through his teeth with all the menace he could muster. 

Sharon didn’t back away; she took a step toward the chair, towards Bucky, mouth still gaping in horror.

“I said get out!”

Steve advanced on her, fingers flexing at his sides; she was at least a distraction, snapping her skinny little neck would’ve been a satisfying break in the tension.  
Sharon backed away fast, darting from the room. Steve slammed the door behind her, not going to leave Bucky in his vulnerable state.

There was sound emitting from Bucky, puffs of stuttering air, Steve moved towards him, taking up his hand and giving his fingers a squeeze.

“Easy...gotta calm down.”

Bucky was sniffing, snorting panicked breaths through his nose, his cheeks turned red and puffy from tears, some of which had grouped at the base of his jaw, clustered together.

The headrest had a wet patch where tears had soaked in, beads of sweat had dampened his hair. Steve brushed his hand through it, feeling the moisture between his fingers.

“She’s gone, just you and me...we’ll do this together.”

Steve leaned forward, not putting himself at Bucky’s eye level, staying on the edge of it, thumbs wiping at Bucky’s face, soothing the irritated skin. He was too much of a coward to look Bucky in the eye, to have that terror directly pushed into him. 

“Shhh, Buck...I’ve done enough stalling, this isn’t fair. I’ve got to be strong for you, do it and then we’ll be together, happy.”

Still Bucky panted out his breaths, short and desperate, eyes swelling with moisture, red veins on his whites. Steve finally got the courage to link gazes, to tell the helpless man he loved him, would always, but the words got caught in his throat, throttled him.

Bucky’s irises were dazzling blue-grey, pulsing with different shades. Steve had never seen the colours so clear before, the outer irises blue like the ocean, getting greyer towards the pupil like a kaleidoscope of stormy colours.

Then Steve realised with a sinking gut why he’d never seen that detail before. Bucky’s pupils had shrunk back to dots, fearful dots, making the colour more vibrant, more beautiful.

In helpless fear Bucky dazzled, brighter than any diamond, any star. His pale skin was in contrast to his hair, the luscious strands on his head and the shadow of stubble on his jaw. He couldn’t look anymore perfect, and despite the gutting situation, Steve felt pride, achievement at the sight. Bucky was his, this gorgeous man was forever going to be his once he had finished, once he had taken away the bad memories, and gave Bucky a blank platform to make good ones.

Steve wondered whether the chair would take that brightness away too, would he be forever dulled afterwards.  
With the Hydra agents, you could tell the life had left them; they were empty shells of people. If that happened to Bucky he’d never forgive himself, he’d live a lifetime of guilt, but at least he wouldn’t be alone. He’d have Bucky entirely, his heart, soul and body. It might be a different Bucky, a more distant one. But any Bucky was better than none.

“’m sorry...”

Steve gripped Bucky’s chin, tugging down to open his mouth, sliding the guard in and getting it into position. He rubbed his forefinger along Bucky’s lips, preying the delicate skin wouldn’t tear, wouldn’t split in the corners like the Hydra agents’ had. He would have to keep an eye on it, stop every few minutes to moisten the skin, maybe with his own lips, stop and kiss the pain away, lick the inside of Bucky’s mouth and clean away the blood.

Others had frothed blood, gurgled on it and dribbled it out. Steve wasn’t going to let Bucky look that pathetic, that tragic; he would stop, clean him up, mop the sweat off his brow. He would stroke Bucky’s skin, sooth it with his hands and caresses.

“Steve, stop!”

Not Sharon’s glass-splitting voice but Tony’s. Steve retreated from his position over Bucky, fixing a scowl on his face to glare at the door.  
Not just Tony, but Sam and Natasha too, all edging there way in.

“I know you don’t wanna hurt him...” Sam tried, palms up, face sincere, “we don’t want you to hurt him either...”

“I wanted him to love me....thought I could do it without this, but I can’t...”

Natasha took a step closer, hand on her heart, “he does love you Steve, everyone can see he does, he wouldn’t have stayed if he didn’t.”

Steve shook his head with a bitter laugh. He had thought so too, thought Bucky loved him, but it was a lie, Bucky had been playing him, “he’s been lying...he said so himself....he made me do this.”

He pointed at the machine, the computer behind, all he had to do was press the god-damn button and it would start. How could pressing a tiny little button be so hard ---

“We can’t let you hurt him.” Tony whispered.

Steve snorted a laugh, “you can’t stop me...”

The three in the doorway shuffled, darting worried looks at each other.

“We don’t want to fight you Steve---

Sam’s words stopped dead when Steve laughed, there would be no fight; he would destroy all three for getting involved, for trying to take Bucky from him.

“Leave, get out while you can.”

Tony bobbed his head, stepping backward out the door, Sam and Natasha shuffled towards each other, shoulder to shoulder. Not backing down. They looked scared though, apprehensive over what would happen next, what Steve would do to them.

The shield was at the other side of the room, there to be re-sprayed. Steve’s eyes settled on it and both Natasha and Sam followed his gaze.

“Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” Steve muttered, running his hand down Bucky’s arm as he walked towards the two in the doorway.

There was a shout, Natasha and Sam broke apart and a ball of light burst through the gap, hitting Steve square in the chest, knocking him to the floor. 

He grit his teeth at the burn in his chest where the clothing had melted, sticking to his molten flesh. Blisters bubbled and popped, and he hissed angrily at the sensation, scrunched his nose at the smell-

“Jarvis, shut down all the power.” Tony bellowed, mask retracting so he could look down at Steve.

Steve hissed at the sound of clunking metal, the footsteps of the Iron Man suit.

“You’re going to regret that.” Steve spat before getting to his feet.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

The light above Bucky’s head was beginning to fry his eyes; it was all he could see, blaring down at him and blotches of colour stained his vision when he tried to focus somewhere else. Not that he could look anywhere else but directly above.

He couldn’t move, his whole body feeling as if a weighted blanket had been pulled tight around him. It wasn’t painful, nor uncomfortable. But it was bloody terrifying, having his body unresponsive, brain working a mile a minute, and eyes tracking nothing of interest. He panted his breaths, his heart pounded away behind his ribs, but those unconscious functions were as far as it went. Even when he blinked it was a struggle, fighting with his body’s desire to relax, to seal his eyes and never open them.

Steve was going to use the machine on him, it had taken him a few minutes to realise where he was while Steve had been caressing his face, like he always did when he first woke. 

Running his fingertips gently, following the angle of bones. Steve always touched him like he was precious, made of glass, fragile. Only in the morning though, the rest of the time he was grabby, dominating. But in the morning, Steve almost acted like he was still surprised to see Bucky next to him, amazed that he was lying in Steve’s bed with their legs tangled together.

Except, this time when he tried to move, to lift his arm and cup the back of Steve’s neck, draw him into a kiss, nothing happened.  
His whole body felt heavy, more than heavy, he felt like he was being pulled down into the floor. Nothing worked, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t turn his head to follow where Steve had gone.

He was stuck, helplessness and terror rapidly growing. When he spotted the light above his head his heart skipped a beat, compensating for the lapse with a thump that shook his chest, made his vision pulse. He was in the chair; the one Tony had shown him. The one the enemy wanted to use to turn Steve into a puppet.

He couldn’t resist the tug of his eye lids; they slid shut even though he was chanting in his head for them to stay open. He was drifting, caught in a wave of numbness, trying to drown him.

Voices --- Tony’s distinct tones, and then Sam’s and Natasha’s. They were there in the room, he couldn’t turn towards them, couldn’t confirm they weren’t hallucinations from his mind panicking. He forced his lids open, staring up at the irritating lamp above his head. A shadow moved closer, stopped at the edge of the chair. Steve was standing beside him, looking up at him and Bucky could see his clenching jaw, his flared nostrils. Eyes focussed towards the voices, real voices, of Bucky’s friends.

Because they must’ve been friends to put themselves at risk for him, to stand there and disagree with what Steve was doing. They may’ve lied, played a part in manipulating him, but they were trying to save him.

A blast of light flashed in the room, followed by a crashing sound and a sizzle. Then the smell of melting flesh made Bucky’s stomach roll.

“You’re going to regret that...”  
Steve’s pained voice growled. It was the source of burning flesh, the sizzling sound. 

All Bucky could do was lay there and listen to the clashing of metal, the grunts of outrage and the gasps of pain.  
The splattering sound of blood on the floor had Bucky sobbing, silently. The burning tears escaped his eyes, felt warm and irritating on his cheeks. No longer fear for himself, but the others. For Steve. Steve who was either going to murder to keep him, or die trying.

They were all fighting for him, and he needed to do the same for them, fight against the force keeping him in place. All of them were in danger and it was his fault. He had wanted to make Steve suffer, wanted to hurt him, only for a minute. He forgot how fragile Steve could be underneath the intimidation and evil intent he was a scared boy, afraid of being on his own.

The metallic smell of blood was in the air, the wet thumps and slaps had died down. Only the whirl of metal plates and the charging of blasters could be heard. Natasha and Sam weren’t yelling anymore, weren’t gasping in agony.  
It was just Tony and Steve, Iron Man against Captain America.

He had to move, needed to get Steve’s attention but it was so hard. Ached to even try. Mentally, it hurt his brain. A sharp pain erupted in his temple and he ignored it, willing for his body to respond.

It was an inch of movement, turning his head to the side but it made him dizzy, the room spin. Gravity pulled his face further round. He was able to see the floor.

Natasha and Sam were there, bleeding and bruised. The latter was unconscious, but Bucky could see the rise and fall of his chest. Natasha cradled her arm to her chest, her other arm wrapped around Sam’s neck in an embrace.  
They watched on as Steve and Tony went at each other. The Iron Man suit had been shredded, Steve’s face was swollen and bruised, his fists were cracked and pouring blood, and yet he didn’t stop. Steve would fight ‘till his last breath for him. His messed up devotion and love a physical image for Bucky to see.

A roar from Steve and then Tony was on the floor. Steve straddled him, raising his shield and slamming it into the centre of the suit, taking away its power source.

He was smiling toothily, lip pulled back in a feral expression. Bucky watched in horror as Steve yanked the shield free, holding it high above his head. Ready for the final blow, no longer trying to stop Tony but kill him.  
His neck, the shield was going to crash down on Tony’s neck, Tony was about to be decapitated by the shield his own dad had given to Steve--

Bucky couldn’t shout, couldn’t even attempt anything more than a silent hum, but he could sway his body, force his whole body just an inch, like he had with his head. Gravity, he relied on gravity to take him over the edge of the chair. Not thinking about what would happen when he hit the floor only hoping that it would be a loud enough sound to pull Steve from his murderous rage.

He hit the floor, at first the pain in his head was so intense he was sure he was going to pass out, and the immediate gush of blood from his nose and his unfocussed vision told him it was bad. He couldn’t right himself, but he could stare across the floor to where the fight had almost reached its horrifying conclusion.

He spied Tony on the floor, head still very much on his shoulders and Steve’s shield beside him.

“Buck...” Steve gasped, rolling Bucky over. His voice was worried, no longer the war cry of moments ago but soft and soothing. He wiped his hand under Bucky’s dripping nose, though there was little point, with Steve’s blooded hands he just made Bucky look even worse.

Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t work, it lay flat in his mouth. Steve cradled him, stared down at him with wild eyes. Even if Bucky had been able to speak nothing would’ve come out: the shock of seeing Steve, face bloodied, chest heaving, purple swellings. The unmasked rage and fear being replaced my tenderness.

“Come on, let’s get you up.”

No, Bucky screamed the word in his head, unable to do anything when Steve picked him up effortlessly and put him back in the chair. Steve’s shirt had been burnt off, blisters and cuts oozed on his chest, but he didn’t seem bothered by them, his whole focus was on Bucky.

Every ounce of strength and determination he channelled into his arm, moving it sluggishly to slap at Steve’s chest. Palm over his heart.  
The muscle beneath Steve’s ribs was beating as fast as his, jogging his whole body as he held Bucky upright, not pushing him down on the chair.

“My,” Bucky managed his jaw spasmed uncomfortably and he tried again, “Mine.”

Steve’s eyes went comically wide, locking on to the hand pressed against his chest. Bucky wanted to laugh, but that was out of the question, all he could manage was a grunt of amusement in the back of his throat.

Steve frowned at the noise, searching Bucky’s face. Rage vanishing, replaced with awe and wonder.  
Steve mirrored the gesture, one arm still wrapped around Bucky but the other between them, palm to Bucky’s heart.

“Mine...you’re mine too Buck...that’s why I got to do this.”

Bucky pressed his hand to Steve’s chest as hard as he could, would’ve banged Steve’s chest like the dumb ape he was, but the slight pressure was enough to get Steve’s attention, to get him to focus on the hand again.

He tried to say words, aborted a lot of them, speaking without a functioning tongue or moving jaw resulted in a lot of hissing sounds, grunts and hums. He couldn’t say ‘love you,’ love required too much movement, movement his face wasn’t ready for.  
It was a fight just to speak, exhausting, dizzying, but he tried, tried to say something that would get Steve to understand.

“Mine.” He repeated. Steve waited as Bucky battled his body, bobbing his head and speaking again, “My...Monster...”

It was the grandest statement he could make in his current condition, Summing up his feelings for Steve. He knew he was a monster, had done terrible things, but that didn’t make him any less his. He loved Steve, couldn’t love the nice Steve without loving the psychotic one too. Fear drove the crazy one, the fear of losing Bucky made him do awful things. Steve was dangerous, a weapon with devastating effects. Bucky was the trigger, could set the danger off. He was the fuse to Steve’s explosive nature, his anger and fear.

Steve’s eyes roamed the destruction behind him, tracked over to the computer, swelling with tears and confusion.  
“Your monster.” Steve mumbled, staring intently at Bucky’s face, trying to see the truth.

A smile, the most painful and poorly produced smile he’d ever slapped to his face, but Bucky did his best to reassure Steve with it, fought against the paralysis, just to smile in agreement.

“Mine.” He said again, clearer than the times before, firmer, more sure.

Steve’s face folded, he glanced away with a shiver. His teeth chomped into his bottom lip, stopping it from wobbling.  
Steve blinked slowly, his face morphing into an expression of anguish.

He held Bucky up, but dropped his head forward, resting against Bucky’s chest. He sobbed, shoved his face into Bucky’s flesh, nuzzled him sniffling and gasping.

Bucky prayed it was a good sign that Steve understood he was loved no matter what he’d done.

Steve pushed at his chest, getting him to lie down and fresh tears sprang from Bucky’s eyes. It hadn’t worked, Steve hadn’t understood, was still going to delete his memories. Except one of Steve’s arms hooked under his knees, the other round his back. 

Not putting him back into the chair but picking him up, carrying him bridal style out of the room. Tony on the floor passed in a blur, Natasha and Sam too.  
Bucky couldn’t tell how badly hurt they were, but they were all covered in blood, looking dazed, in Sam’s case unconscious --

“They’re all still alive...bones will heal, there’s plenty of blood packs in the tower.”

It wasn’t exactly reassuring, but he focussed on the fact that none of them were dead. Steve could’ve finished Nat and Sam off, but he hadn’t.

Bucky was so tired, body so numb and heavy that he melted into Steve’s hold. 

The lights of the tower were off, elevator not working. Instead Steve trudged the stairs. His footsteps echoed solemnly in the quiet and Bucky couldn’t fill the silence with any more reassurance, could only grow more nervous the higher they climbed.  
Just as the arrived at the apartment door, the lights blinked back on, and the elevator doors dinged open showing the empty capsule.

The power was back on. The chair would be in working order again. Steve would be able to carry out what he intended.  
Bucky watched with a flitter of fear as Steve stared longingly at the elevator doors, the fastest way back to the floor they had just come from.

He tapped his hand to Steve’s bare chest and prayed Steve understood what he was trying to project.  
Steve shifted Bucky in his arms, pushing forward so he could get in the apartment.

Steve didn’t speak, didn’t even glance Bucky’s way. He walked into the apartment, put Bucky in a sitting position on the couch and plodded toward the kitchen.  
Both of his purpled hands were braced on the countertop, his back to Bucky. The silence was unbearable. Bucky wanted to say something, he flexed his jaw and hummed in his throat to try---

“It will start to wear off in ten minutes or so...”

That was at least a relief, the paralysis wasn’t going to last. It wasn’t fun being trapped inside his own head, to be a bystander and watch a disaster he’d created.

That gave them an awkward ten minutes in silence, Bucky staring into the kitchen at the drooping Steve. His neck was bowed forward, body curled and only kept upright by his locked arms on the surface.  
He didn’t speak, didn’t make any noise. He had frozen in the kitchen and Bucky didn’t know what it meant.

Bucky concentrated on himself, getting his body functioning again. It started with his fingers and toes. He could wiggle them again, stiff and cramping but they moved when he wanted them to. 

The rest of his body followed in its self revival. He ached, muscles throbbed and his face hurt, but it was a relief to feel properly again. Muffled sensation became focussed and sharp.  
Still Steve hadn’t moved, when ten minutes turned to twenty, he was in the exact same position.  
Bucky turned his head, the door to the apartment was wide open and Bucky wondered whether that was significant. Was Steve giving him the chance to run, to leave? Two options, an escape or an acceptance, was that was Steve was asking him?

“I’ll let you go...if that’s what you want...I don’t want to fight anymore.”

Anger swelled in Bucky’s chest. Steve had put him through so much shit, had been minutes away from wiping his memories. And now he was standing across the room, ready to let Bucky go, to act like they were nothing.

Bucky forced his aching body up, swaying, almost to the point of falling back over.  
His legs were lagging and wobbly, it felt like he was walking on circus stilts when he moved toward the door as graceful as a zombie, slow plods of damnation until it was within reach.

Steve didn’t turn, but his body sagged more, his head shook in denial, facing the countertop. A wet gasp came from his direction.  
Bucky gripped the door, fingers scrunched around it as hard as he could as he got his balance. Then he slammed the door with enough force to rattle the wall, the whole apartment, the whole god-damn building.

When Steve finally turned he just looked confused. Pathetic, too, but mostly confused. He swiped the tear trails off his cheeks, sniffling loudly.

“I’m not good for you Buck...I love you enough to let you go.” He whispered softly. 

Bucky wanted to punch him, needed to slap his stupid face. Now, now was the moment Steve gained a conscious, when he realised all the shit he’d done might have actually affected Bucky. It was too fucking late for that, Bucky inwardly screamed. Self-sacrificing bullshit!

He breathed deep, drawing all the air he could in his lungs before shouting toward Steve.  
“I don’t want you to!”

It hurt to shout, but that made Bucky even angrier, made him want to hurl some more truths Steve’s way.

“All the shit Steve, all the lies. You playing games with me, manipulating me. Your obsession with Brock. I hate it. But not enough to leave, not enough to stop being in love with you. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m pissed at you for even thinking it, for even contemplating letting me go!”

Bucky swallowed dryly, rubbing at his spasming throat. God it felt good to yell, especially at Steve when he was being so idiotic.  
Stunned, that was the expression on Steve’s face. His mouth popped open and closed like a fish.

“No more lies Steve, please...I can’t take anymore--

“I was lying...”

Bucky dropped back against the door with a grunt.

“What- about what? When?”

There were enough lies, what was one more to throw on the pile. It wasn’t going to make a god-damn difference---

“Just now...about letting you go...I would’ve maybe given you a day or two...a week tops, but I would’ve gone after you, seduced you again...got you back here...only death will stop me from having you, stop you from being mine.”

They stared at each other, Steve’s blue eyes wide and unblinking. He looked scared of his admission, Bucky just felt bloody relieved. The tension of thinking Steve didn’t want him anymore dissolving.

“Good.” Bucky breathed after a pause, “good, coz I don’t want you to let me go, this has all been about getting me to love you, don’t suddenly change your mind, don’t act like some kind of self-sacrificing hero, we both know you’re not.”

“You’re right...I’m still a selfish bastard.”

Never had Steve said something truer in his life, and despite the tense-as-hell situation, Bucky laughed, shook his head and laughed.

“I lied about getting Tony to pick your car up.”

Bucky frowned, utterly confused by the change in subject. He hadn’t even thought about his shitty car left in some layby.

“I lied about Brock leaving the room, he stayed...watched the whole thing...”

Bucky had suspected that, caught in the moment he couldn’t have cared less whether Brock was in the room or not.

“I lied when I said I’d never hurt you...I have.”

He couldn’t disagree. Steve had hurt him more than anyone; even his mother’s lie hadn’t emotionally bludgeoned him as much as Steve’s had.

“I-I was going to wipe you...”

Bucky nodded, “I know...”

His body felt heavy, achy, as if he had run several marathons. He wanted to sit back down, but didn’t want to interrupt the moment by doing something as embarrassing as collapsing. Steve was talking, actually telling the truth. His body would just have to do what he bloody well asked it to and stay upright.

“I paralysed you...didn’t want to hear you scream, or watch you tremble.”

It was such a vulnerable confession, and Bucky didn’t miss the hitch in Steve’s voice, the way he bit down hard on his lip again. Bucky guessed by the straps on the chair that having your brain wiped wasn’t a pleasant experience; the mouth guard Steve had forced between his teeth had confirmed what he feared--

“Why did you lie to me?”

It was exactly what Bucky wanted to ask him but Steve got there first, blurted those words before he had.

“I wanted you to hurt. I wanted you to feel my pain just for a minute. To understand what it feels like to get your heart broken.”

Steve bobbed his head, his brow marred with deep lines from his frown. “It hurt....I didn’t think anything could actually hurt me, but it did, made me scared too.”

Bucky nodded his head, no longer feeling that sense of triumph for causing Steve's panic, but just a ball of prickly guilt.  
“That’s what it felt like when I realised you were playing a game with me.” Bucky whispered back.

“I never did any of this to hurt you Buck, only to keep you. I didn’t lie to you about important things.”

“Brock, my house, those text messages, they’re all pretty damn important to me.”

The calm atmosphere changed in a second, Steve no longer open and engaging but closed off and angry. He moved fast, and was suddenly caging Bucky to the door, with an arm either side of his head.

“Brock’s important to you?”

It was growled out, and rather than retreat in fright, Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve’s jealousy. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by him, he wasn’t afraid of Steve, even when he was growling like some territorial lion. This relationship couldn’t be based on fear and manipulation anymore.

“He, himself, is not important to me, but lying about him Steve...messing with my head.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the messages?”

Rather than bite back like he had before, Bucky sighed. “I didn’t want to drag you into my shit. Brock was angry at me, hurt. I broke his heart and he needed to rant. Being a mental punch bag was the least I could do for him.”

Except it was never really Brock, and thinking about it made Bucky’s head hurt, and anger spike again.

“You said he’s a threat...he isn’t. Even before us Steve, Brock and I weren’t serious...I was...filling time, solving loneliness with the first person to show an interest. He’s a nice guy---

Steve’s face scrunched in fury, eyes narrowing and dropping down to Bucky’s lips. Bucky ignored him and carried on, turning his head so Steve couldn’t savage his lips with a dominating kiss---

“He’s a nice guy, but I’m not interested in him. There’s nothing there...I don’t miss him. I don’t reminisce, there’s nothing worth reminiscing about...”

Steve leaned in close, lips to Bucky’s ear, “I need to kill him Buck...”

“Don’t.”

Steve pulled back with a pained noise, biting his lip and shifting foot to foot. “If I kill him will you leave, will you stop loving me?”

There was no point in lying, the last time he had lied to Steve all hell broke loose. He almost got fried in a chair and people he cared about got hurt.  
“I’ll never stop loving you Steve, even if you killed him...I wouldn’t stop, I wouldn’t leave.”

Steve smiled, big and bright, a small wrinkle denting the top of his nose. Bucky imagined that was the expression normal people had when they saw a puppy or a kitten.  
“Really?”

The gasping voice was even worse, it was happy disbelief, and that wasn’t what Bucky wanted to hear.

“But...but it would mean a lot to me if you didn’t...it would mean you trusted me, believed me. You say you love me then do this one thing for me.”

Bucky watched patiently as Steve tensed and relaxed his jaw a few times.

“Okay.” He said finally, but Bucky shook his head. This close he could see the plotting behind Steve’s eyes, the slight smugness, the way his focus drifted off like he was imagining something.

“No getting someone else to do it, no faking an accident or a suicide...”

Steve’s eyes went wide, the expression of someone caught out. “I-I...”

“You leave him to get on with his life.”

“But if he goes near you...if he pulls another stunt like the one with the car.”

Bucky nodded, not really wanting to agree but needing to give something to Steve. Brock surely had more sense than to come near either of them again, that’s what he prayed.

“Okay...I won’t actively try to kill him...” Steve muttered, in the same tone as a bratty child.

“Thank you...”

He would’ve slumped with relief but found himself already boneless. Steve’s pelvis was pinning his, Steve’s hands were under Bucky’s armpit holding him up as they talked. He hadn’t even noticed his slow slide down the door, but Steve had, and stopped it.

“I’m-I’m exhausted.” Bucky admitted, emotionally, physically...

“If I was a nice boyfriend, I’d put you to bed, wrap you up and let you rest, but I’m not...nice.”

Steve tugged, getting Bucky to follow with dragging feet through the apartment and into the bedroom.

“What you gunna do?”

“I need to get you naked, need to get my mouth on you, be inside of you. Need to reclaim what I thought I’d lost.”

Bucky smiled at Steve’s list, “anything else you need?”

“I need you to tell me you love me.”

Before Bucky could reply, Steve shoved at his chest. His arms flailed out at his sides as he landed on the mattress.  
Propping himself up on his elbows, Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but his breath was robbed again when Steve pushed him back, leaned over and kissed him.

It was dominating, controlling, felt more like Steve was trying to devour him and in his sluggish state Bucky couldn’t keep pace. His mouth went pliant and he let Steve lick inside, taste the wet flesh of his tongue.  
Happy sighs of contentment left his lips as Steve skimmed down his body, kissing and licking. He undressed Bucky carefully, didn’t tug at his jeans like he usually did, but undid all the buttons and slid them off.

Every time he remembered what Steve had asked him to do, say those three silly words, he got distracted. Steve sucked hard on his nipple, or ran his tongue along Bucky’s stomach, or gnawed at his hip bone.  
It was hard to think when Steve was on him, touching, robbing him of thought. There was only pleasure, flesh tingling pleasure when Steve was on him.

It was made more intense by his tired body, and he couldn’t shift out of the way when it got too much, couldn’t tense his muscles or go after Steve.  
He wanted to tell Steve he loved him, but it wasn’t possible, got even more difficult when Steve wriggled lower, grabbing onto his hips and lifting him off the bed.

“Tell me you love me...” He mumbled from between Bucky’s thighs.

“I----

His attempt turned into a groan when Steve started licking at him, broad strokes on his needy hole, lips popping at the rim and mouth sucking the bunched folds of skin.

“Steve--- 

“Say it Buck...”

Steve changed his tongue to his probing fingers, slipping inside, curling and stretching, finding the sweet spot that had Bucky arching off the bed.

“Tell me...”

Bucky whimpered pathetically, that close to the edge he forgot what the hell he was trying to say, what Steve wanted from him.  
“Please, Steve.”

The man between his legs laughed, nuzzled forward. His cheek brushing along Bucky’s cock like a lion scent marking, rubbing himself all over ‘till he was sticky from pre-come.

“Shhhittt---

“No, not shit,” Steve mumbled with amusement, “that’s not what you’re trying to say.”

The fingers still worked him, Steve no longer rubbing his face feverishly on Bucky’s cock, but licking at it instead, sucking the head into his mouth and running his tongue along the slit with an appreciative hum.

“Steve-fuck---...

It was too much. He couldn’t fight it, or stop it from happening. He was coming with an echoing groan, whole body twitching and over stimulated.

Steve laughed, Bucky’s cock still in his mouth, his amusement vibrated the sensitive flesh ‘till it was almost painful.  
Bucky sat bolt upright, gripping Steve’s head and tugging it off his cock before collapsing back down, taking Steve with him.

“I love you, now ‘nuff teasing Steve...get inside me like you said you would.”

Steve couldn’t move fast enough, springing off the bed and stripping his pants before climbing back on. Arranging himself before pushing in slowly, staring adoringly at Bucky’s flushed face the whole time.

Steve slid into him, hitting the right spot. His body was too heavy and tired to tense against the sensation, he couldn’t hold back. His body moulded perfectly around Steve’s cock.

His prostate had been prodded and circled with fingers, but when Steve was rutting in him it felt more intense, like he was hanging on the edge of an orgasm, the glorious feeling of being overcome by pleasure. He had come untouched before, but had always been the one in control, finding the spot and bouncing up and down until the feeling swamped him.

This time was different. He was surrendering fully to Steve, trusting Steve to take care of him and guide him through it.  
The feeling was deep in his gut, spreading warmth, tingling in waves. His thighs, his pelvis, his cock all felt tight and hot, to the point he couldn’t feel anything else, didn’t even know if Steve was kissing him, or sucking hickeys on his neck.

When he rode Steve he went fast, desperate to be pushed over the cliff of ecstasy, but Steve was taking his time, keeping him on the brink. It could’ve been ten minutes, twenty, a full hour, he didn’t know how long Steve kept him suspended like that at the brink of orgasm until his whole body trembled, sobbing and twitching.

The orgasm hit, not in waves but in a continuous building buzz of pleasure all through his body, streams of come shooting out his untouched cock and slapping Steve’s chest. The feeling didn’t die down. His convulsing cock didn’t stop leaking. The warm tingle of release and euphoria made his head rush, dizzy and distant, almost to the point of an outer body experience.

Steve was speaking to him, holding him, but he couldn’t hear it, didn’t feel it, he just trusted Steve enough to know he would be there, holding and speaking to him as his messed up mind decided to blank out for a minute or ten.

This was giving himself to Steve entirely; this was what it felt like to pass complete control over to the man above him. No need for tampered drink, his body belonged to Steve, his mind did too. Not to mention his heart, which was jackhammering in his chest.  
He shut his eyes, let the shattered pieces of his soul realign. A soul forever changed by falling in love with Steve. His ruthless monster that would burn the world if he asked him to...

 

Steve was doing his odd mapping of Bucky’s face, soft fingers tracing his features. They were feather-light and tickly but Bucky didn’t mind, he sighed into Steve’s strange ritual.

“Welcome back...” he mumbled, and Bucky ignored the hint of smugness in his voice, “that was intense...amazing, Buck.”

Bucky hummed an agreement, a satisfied one, still able to feel the afterglow in his pelvis.  
Steve leaned down to kiss him, no longer dominating, but soft and precious but Bucky was too sleepy to respond. He gave up chasing the lock of Steve’s lips and relaxed into the bed, letting Steve do as he pleased. Bucky closed his eyes focussing on the feel of Steve, the sensations he created with his hands and mouth.

Nails scratched through his hair, making him gasp and shiver. Steve’s other hand was cupping his face, rubbing along his jaw.  
It almost felt like Steve was worshiping his face with caresses. Gentle but no less possessive. Bucky loved it, grinning to himself as Steve nipped along his jaw.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

Bucky struggled to open his eyes, bringing Steve’s hovering head back into focus. “You don’t like me smiling?”

“I do, more than anything, but why?”

“I’m happy...I’m smiling because I’m happy.”

Steve’s brow stacked with lines, he narrowed his eyes questionably, “you’re happy...even though I very nearly wiped your mind earlier...even though I lied and manipulated...even though I’ve got a thirst for blood lust and murder...even though I wanna kill anyone that looks at you with desire---

The list would’ve gone on and on so Bucky shut Steve up with a kiss before sinking back down.  
“Even though all of the above and more...I’m happy coz I love ya, and you love me.”

“I have your heart?”

Bucky thought it was an odd phrase, but nothing about Steve was normal. He nodded weakly, pulling Steve’s wrist so his hand left his jaw, settled on Bucky’s chest, right above his heart.  
“You have my heart...it’s yours...if you wanted to dig your fingers through my flesh and bone to get to the damn thing I’d let you, let you pull it out, that’s how much it belongs to you.”

Steve moved his hand away shocked, held the back of his fingers to Bucky’s forehead, looking slightly worried. “Jesus Buck, I think you’re the crazy one...”

Bucky grinned wider, gripping the back of Steve’s neck and tugging him close.

“It took you long enough to realise...”

He settled his lips to Steve’s and hummed into a kiss. Nothing else mattered, he would go with Steve to the ends of the earth, to the depths of hell because he loved the monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you were entertained by dark steve.
> 
> <3 On another note I've currently got to M/M romance on [Kindlescout](https://kindlescout.amazon.com/p/1TFYHEMRBR80F)  
> If it spikes your interest :), if nominated and selected, you'll get a free copy of the ebook. <3
> 
> I have thought about writing one shots, maybe something like Steve and Bucky out with Tony on his bachelor party, or at Tony and Peppers wedding a moody assed Steve...


	14. The man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other ending, my preferred one, but would've been more difficult to do one-shots.  
> Beta'd again by Nonush ;)

Bucky awoke shivering, skin tight and tingling like he was being stabbed by millions of ice daggers. The feeling faded under a warm, brushing movement up and down his arm. It took away the cold, brought sensation back to normal.

“You there?”

He battled his weighted lids, forcing them wider to find the source of those words. A man, a devastated face inches from his nose. The man’s lips twitched unsure whether to smile or break into a sob.

There was pain in his head, a constant hum that grew in pitch when he tried to think, tried to understand. It was almost as if he wasn’t allowed to go searching for clues in his own mind, he would be punished for doing so.

The man squished him to his firm chest, arms locked around his body. A hand was in the back of his damp hair, pinching the strands between the fingers.

He was still shaking, tried to will his body to stop, then he realised it wasn’t his own body creating that movement; it was the man clinging on to him. The one cradling him. He was sat on the man’s knees, one arm under his back, other cupping his shoulder. He was leaning him back to look him in the eye. From the outside, the pose would look almost romantic.

“Let’s-let’s get you up...”

He had no idea how he got down in the first place.  
Bucky let the man pick him up, swaying on his feet as he tried to get his balance. With his knees locking he managed it, gripping the man’s shoulder so he didn’t topple over.

“Where am I?”

It hurt to speak, his throat spasmed and he swallowed dryly, doing so again when the taste of bile lingered at the back. It tasted like he had been sick, or had been on the verge of being sick not long ago.

The man didn’t answer, just stared wide eyed into his face. His blue irises were swimming in tears, cheeks puffed up and patchy. Bucky felt the tug in his chest to sooth that face, to wipe at those stubborn tears. He didn’t want to remove his gripping hands though, didn’t want to collapse on the floor.

“Do you know who I am?” The man said firmly, lips moving a bit out of time but clear enough for Bucky to understand.

The answer was no, a heart tugging no, but the man was watching eagerly, flicking his head in encouragement. Fear expanded, he didn’t know, didn’t know the room, and when he tried to remember his own name or the man’s, or the last twenty four hours, let alone years, an empty chamber in his mind echoed.

“No.” Bucky whispered, “I can’t think-I can’t remember anything...” 

The man let out a long breath, pulling him closer. A hand brushed through Bucky’s damp hair, angling him into his neck, trapping him in a hug.  
Bucky subtly breathed in at his neck, drawing the smell of the man into his lungs. He liked it, the panic subsided when the man was gripping him, his scent invading him and he listened to the murmured words of comfort. Confused was an understatement, but the man muffled the feeling and he sighed contented into his flesh. 

“Got to clean you up...”

Bucky’s face felt sticky, sweaty and hot, he swiped the back of his hand across his nose recoiling when it stained his peachy flesh red. His nose was dripping, and he could taste blood on his lips.  
Before panic could take hold the man was back hushing him, moving a damp towel over his face, cleaning the blood and perspiration off his skin. He opened his mouth to let the wet material run around his lips, clearing the dried blood away.

“Here.” The man said, throwing the towel away and pressing a glass into Bucky’s hands.  
He stared at the drink, a sudden shot of arousal throbbed in his belly at the sight of the water, the man still half holding the glass so it wouldn’t fall. It sent a buzzing through his body, a tingling sensation that was not helping the odd situation. His inappropriate hard on swiftly vanished when he saw what was on the floor.

The body made him gasp, stumble back to be steadied by the human-wall of a man.  
A woman, spread out on the floor, eyes staring at nothing, mouth cracked open. Her skin was greying, purple and black splodges had bloomed on her neck.

“Wha-what...?”

The man moved in front, shielding Bucky from the sight of the dead woman.

“I couldn’t get to her in time.”

Bucky frowned, scrunched his face up tight. That made no sense. Nothing made sense, and the questions started to swamp his mind, drown him.

“Where am I, what happened, why-why can’t I think right-

The man pulled him flush to his chest again, but Bucky couldn’t enjoy the embrace when his chin was hooked over his shoulder, letting him see the woman on the floor. Long blond hair, half covering her face-  
“Where am I?” he said firmly.

The man angled him back, sliding their foreheads together, “The Avengers took you.”

“Avengers?”

“They took you, experimented on you,” the man flicked his head towards the chair in the room.  
The odd metal one that looked like it belonged on a sci-fi movie set. There were straps for arms, torsos, legs. To pin someone down.

“Wha-

“They’re not to be trusted. I’ve got to get you out of here.”

The man started to move him, arm round his shoulder to help him stagger out. The Avengers, they sounded like a strange rock group, but there was something in his head, an odd sense of recognition. He knew them, knew of them. His head throbbed with a wave of pain and he stumbled.

“The-the Avengers killed her?”

“Yes, tortured, killed, will do it to you, that’s why we gotta go.”

Bucky nodded, making an effort to move faster down the corridor. He didn’t want to end up like that poor woman, greying on the floor, face permanently stuck into a look of horror.  
The corridor was long, shiny tiles on the floor and framed paintings on the walls. It was flawless in stylish beauty, not the kind of place one would expect where people were getting tortured.  
There was a bark of a name; Bucky didn’t catch it, ears still muffled by a watery swell now and again. The man stopped in his stride though, moving Bucky behind his back where he had to clutch onto his shirt to stay up right.

“Where you going?”

The woman was dressed in black, head to toe in a dark jumpsuit. Her hair was striking red, eyes narrowed into suspicion.

“She an Avenger?” Bucky whispered.

“Yes.” The man replied with a hiss.

She did look terrifying, focused, her stride oozed confidence, but the man held his hand up and she immediately stopped.

“Back off.” He growled.

It was spat out, and Bucky could feel how much that aggression rattled his frame. The man breathed deep, body puffing higher up in intimidation, hiding Bucky’s view of the woman altogether.  
The man was backward stepping, forcing Bucky to do the same. Retreat down the corridor hidden from view until they got to an elevator.

The woman stood where the man had told her to, finger and thumb picking at her lip, no longer suspicious but worried. She was right to worry; this man could be scary as hell from a few growled out words. Bucky didn’t want to get on the wrong side of him…  
The elevator doors locked into position and the man released a puff of relief, hands finding Bucky’s hips and dragging him forward.

He kissed Bucky’s throat, mouthed up his neck licking and nipping, groaning with an odd desperation. And rather than be shocked or alarmed by the sudden display, Bucky leaned his neck back, letting him caress all the flesh he wanted, leave his mark all over his throat. He loved the feeling, it sent shockwaves of tingles down to his toes, made him arch up and follow that mouth. Bucky wanted to kiss him back, needed to, but before he got the courage the doors were opening and the man was leading him out.

He followed obediently, not recognising anything or anyone in the lobby.  
The man led him outside, round the side of the building. He tapped at a keypad on the wall and a door slid open.

Cars, every type of car Bucky could imagine lined the space, but the man didn’t lead him to one, but rather a huge motorbike.

“We’re taking this.” The man said plainly, “get on.”

Part of Bucky wanted to do what he was told immediately, but he refused to move, just glared at the man.  
“Tell me...I don’t know what’s happening?”

“I need you to trust me and get on the bike.”

Bucky bit back a laugh, trust a man he couldn’t remember, no matter how endearing he looked Bucky wasn’t sure. He wasn’t afraid of him, didn’t feel scared even when he stared with focussed intensity. He just wanted to know what the hell was happening.

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because I’m your husband, that’s why.”

The man’s voice had softened when he spoke; eyebrows twitching when he said the words. Bucky’s head swam, and he leaned over to steady himself on the bike.

“Husband?” He gasped out.

“Yeah, and we don’t have time for this right now...gotta trust me.”

When he stared into those big blue eyes he knew he’d follow them anywhere. The way they looked at him so full of passion and love, he didn’t want to be out of their gaze.  
He scrunched his brow again, he didn’t get why he was so sappy with this guy.

“Please, get on the bike...”

A helmet was shoved to his chest and he took it, was about to put it on but noticed the man didn’t have one.

“Where’s yours?”

The man shook his head, starting the bike, “don’t need one.”

“You have to wear one too.”

Trying to think of anything specific hurt, but that, that he knew. Motorbikes, you’re supposed to wear helmets in case you come off.

“I only have one-  
“Then you wear it.”

The man twisted round on the bike, hand shooting out to grip onto Bucky’s jaw. Fingertips glided his skin, walking over his lips.

“Please.”

That tone did something to him, made him shove the helmet on his head fast and wrap his arms around the man’s trunk of a waist.

They were leaving the city, the huge buildings surrounding them less and less, till they were the backdrop of their journey. Bucky’s hands were clasped tightly around the man’s abs. He was nice to hold on to, almost felt like his arms and hands were familiar with holding this man’s body.

Bucky didn’t have a clue where they were going. The man hadn’t shouted anything back to him. He just had to trust the guy he was clinging to.  
They stopped abruptly at a stoplight, even when the red flicked back to green the man didn’t take off. Bucky was seconds away from asking what was wrong but the man revved the bike and spun it around.  
“Something I need to do.” He said over his shoulder and Bucky gripped on tighter as the bike flew back the way they’d come. No longer steady, but fast and winding, desperate to get to somewhere as quick as possible.

The buildings grew again, became more densely packed. Bucky didn’t recognise the streets or roads, just clung on and hoped he wasn’t going to be abandoned in the middle of nowhere.  
The bike pulled up with a purr, engine stuttering to a stop.

“Wait here.”  
“But-  
“Please.”

A tone that left no room for negotiation. The man propped the bike on its stand and went into the building. Bucky sat on the wall outside with the helmet beside him, back to the building but able to see the street, the people casting curious looks his way.

Did he know these people? Did they know him? The Avengers, he knew they were a group of people, remembered grainy images on an old TV of them creating destruction. Blowing holes in buildings, and lighting up sky’s with fire. Were they an organisation? Did this whole city dance to their tune? He wanted the man back, needing the odd calm he brought. The strange sense of protection he felt when he was near him.

He backed away from the bike, moving towards the building, pushing through the doors with no conscious recollection. There was something though, like his feet were remembering a well-trodden path. He followed the impulse to a door, a six that had swung off its top screw into a nine. He moved the number up, staring at it with fasciation before dropping it.

This was the right door, he wasn’t sure what for but he knew it felt normal to be prodding at the metal number. He pushed into the apartment.

The man was there, grinning and wiping his hands on a towel as he left what Bucky assumed was a bathroom? He jumped in shock when he saw Bucky, holding his hand to his thumping chest.  
The shock was quickly covered by anger, “I told you to wait outside!”  
The man threw the towel behind him into the room, tugging the handle fast and latching the door shut.

“I-I...”

He trailed off, unsure why he had come inside in the first place, being around this man made him feel oddly better but he wasn’t ready to admit that.

“Go back to the bike.”

There was a small part of Bucky that wanted to apologise, but the more stubborn part took control. He wasn’t going to be bossed around without knowing why, without knowing what the hell was going on.

“No.” He hissed back, “’m not going anywhere till you start explaining.”  
“I’ll explain when we’re far away from here.”

Bucky shook his head, he had tried to piece together for himself what was going on, but there was nothing. Nothing in his head to slot back together, flashes of images, seconds of a memory but they all felt far away, detached. When he pushed too hard his head hurt, ached, and made him stop trying to search for answers.

His feet had led him into the apartment, there must’ve been something about it-  
The man gripped his arm hard, “we’re going-  
He threw the arm away and the man stumbled back surprised, it was a surprise for himself to escape such a firm grip, body reacting on reflex to detach the man.

“Is this your place?” Bucky asked.

He looked around the room, a space occupied by dark wood furniture and the smell of polish. He moved to the kitchen, spreading out the letters on the surface for something to jog his memory, to tell him where he was.

“Stop that.” The man growled, gripping his waist and pulling him away from the counter top. Bucky was quick to grab a letter though, to see the name. Brock Rumlow.

“Brock?” Bucky asked and the man gasped, let his waist go. “You-you’re Brock?”  
The man shook his head, “No-

“Why are we in his apartment, I-I don’t understand.”  
A sharp pain throbbed right at his temple, making him drop the letter and smack his palm to his head.

“I’m not Brock...we share an apartment.” The man’s distorted voice said.  
He was led over to the couch, pushed gently till his knees hit the cushions and he fell down. The man kneeled in front of him, hands heavy on his thighs.

“Easy, easy, relax for me.”

The man eased Bucky’s palm out the way, moving his fingertips in small circles. It was so good Bucky leaned into the touch, sighed at the feeling and gripped onto the man’s wrist as he did it.

“We have to be careful Buck, you’re not well...”

“Buck?” He replied, confused and comforted by that odd word.

“I call you Buck...your full name’s James Buchanan Barnes...”

The name felt right, when he thought of James he imagined a woman saying it, gasping his name in pride, disappointment, amusement. And Buck, the man called him Buck. That felt like a badge of honour, a name of belonging. He was James Buchanan Barnes to everyone else but to this man he was Buck.

“You said-you said we’re married?”

The man took up his hand, fingertip rubbing on the skin that should be covered by a wedding band. Bucky noticed the silver ring on the man’s other hand shinning in the light.

“Yes, they took your ring.” He whispered, “we got married, it was the best day of my life.”  
A warmness spread through Bucky’s whole body, he shifted at the odd feeling, the nice feeling. He’d married this man, this man was his?

“How...when did we?”  
“We got married six months ago. Flew down to Vegas, you wanted an Elvis impersonator, but they were all booked. Ended up with a Johnny Cash one. First dance to Walk the Line.”

No spark of memory, he smiled sadly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable at not remembering when the man recalled it so fondly. Thank god it wasn’t something fancy, expensive. He hated the thought of a wedding that cost thousands.

“Don’t worry. We can do it again, when you’re feeling better, just the two of us.”

The two of them, the concept felt right, the man’s hands on his thighs rubbing in warmth and his sincere blue eyes all felt comforting, domestic.

“How-how did we even meet?”

The man wasn’t exactly average-joe. His chest was stacked with muscles Bucky was trying not to marvel at, good looks and the way he acted, like Bucky was precious, his to look after. It all made Bucky’s stomach flip and his heart sing in its beats.

“How-how did we get together?”

The man shook his head, “I don’t wanna talk about it...”

That was the first moment dread filled up Bucky’s body; of course the man wasn’t perfect, there had to be something, some monster in the closest.

“Please, please tell me.”  
The man sighed, leaning back on his heels, nervously biting his lip.

“I need to know.” Bucky gasped out with a quiver, he needed to know the man’s flaw-

“You came to America after your mother died. You were a mess, drinking, doing god-knows what. You got drunk one night, got in a car. Crashed into a lake. I saw what happened, was driving the other way. Your car filled with water, disappeared in the gloom and I dived in-

“You saved me?”

As he said the words, his hand moved unconsciously to his throat, rubbing at the skin. He remembered the burn, the black invading his vision. Water cold like ice but burning like fire.

“Shhh Buck, you’re okay now. I pulled you from the car, gave you CPR. You called me your hero.”

He remembered coughing up the water, heaving and gasping for breath. There had been a shadow looking down at him with worry and relief, and before he knew it his mind filled in the shadow with the man’s face. Those blue eyes and his wet blond hair. He had saved him.

“I knew...I knew as soon as I saw you Buck, we were meant to be together.”  
“I-I don’t remember anything about you.”

His voice hitched when he said it, like he was admitting a terrible secret.

“I like art, you watch me paint and draw...and you like dancing, took you to see ballet...”

There was a sudden burn in Bucky’s thighs, a muscle memory of dancing, of practise and posture. Yes, that felt right.

“We can learn each other again, once we’re away from here.”

A stab of pain at the base of Bucky’s skull had him wincing, jerking forward on the couch.

“What happened, why would the Avengers do this to me?”

“I worked for them, doing their bidding for years, all my life, but I fell in love with you. I wanted a life with you but they wouldn’t let me leave, threatened to hurt you if I did...then we went to the cabin, a romantic weekend. They found us, attacked us, took you from me and said they would hurt you if I tried to leave them.”

There was a distant memory; a flash of a destroyed cabin, the man’s panicked face, an echo of fear in Bucky’s heart. He had thought he was going to die, was certain of it—

“I had to get you out of there, stop them hurting you...that’s why we got to go, so they don’t come after us.”  
Steve glanced behind him, as if he was worried they were gonna come bursting through the door.

“Don’t you wanna...pack your stuff?”  
The man shook his head, “you’re all I want, all I need Buck. Just me and you. I love you, that’s all that matters, all that’s ever mattered…”

The words lit a beacon, a blooming happiness. This man loved him, saved him, and did so again from the Avengers. Bucky was lucky to have a man that would do that. He didn’t deserve it, but wasn’t going to turn away from it.

Bucky leaned in, pressing his lips to the man’s, growing more confident, more sure when their lips danced together. They slotted, complemented each other, and the heat increased, kissing got more desperate and needy.  
The man climbed up from his position on the floor, dominating and huge as he put his knees either side of Bucky’s thighs.

“We need to go...”

Bucky whined, gripping the back of the man’s neck and tugging him down, “jst- a sec...I think I remember this.”

The man delved back in for a kiss, moaning enthusiastically as Bucky sucked on his tongue, nipped at his bottom lips.

“We can do this when we get out of here-

Bucky shut him up with another heated suck of his tongue, the desire and need was better than his throbbing head and confusion. 

“Buck, please, don’t tempt-

The man abandoned his words, following them up with a possessive growl. He shifted onto the couch, leaning his hips up and unbuttoning his pants, yanking them down.  
“Fuck it.”  
Bucky didn’t know if that was an expression or a command but he licked his lips as he watched the man undress for him.  
Everything about the man was perfect, including his cock. The cock he was coaxing Bucky to ride. It didn’t take much invitation.

“Where’s your lube?” Bucky asked between heated kisses.

There was some things that he just remembered, knew he had to do to ride this man. The man went still, hands no longer forceful in getting Bucky’s t-shirt off.

“Lube?” The man echoed back.

Bucky nodded, climbing off the man’s lap to shuffle out of his pants, he pointed over to the doors, feeling the embarrassed heat in his cheeks. He couldn’t remember which one was the man’s bedroom.  
The man turned, staring at the doors in turn, “don’t need it.”  
“You don’t, but I do.”  
“No.”

The word was hissed out when Bucky went toward one of the doors, the man was up, gripping and commanding, pulling Bucky back toward the couch.  
Bucky got swept up in the man’s caresses, so skilled and perfectly in tune with his body. He moaned the way back to the couch, unable to help it.  
“I’ll get you ready for me, don’t worry.”

Bucky climbed back onto the man’s lap, leaning right over so his fingers could get to his hole. Slippery from the man’s saliva, prepping him with his own spit.  
He took his time, added more saliva until Bucky was desperate to be filled, to have more than curling fingers.

He sunk down, straightened his back from his stoop so he could see the man under him. His shirt had trails of pre-come from Bucky, an embarrassing amount. The man’s chest heaved, breaths were becoming pants and his cheeks had pinked. He looked how Bucky felt, needy and desperate.  
He rocked on his hips, circled them, all to find the right angle, the man clamped his waist in his hands, 

“You usually like this...”  
He picked Bucky up and dropped him straight back down. Nailing the throbbing place deep inside. 

“Fuuuuck.”

The man smiled toothily, lifting him again, dropping him down.  
Bucky slapped the hands on his hips away, steadying himself on the man’s shoulders. Dropping down and jumping up at a steady pace. The room dissolved away to nothing, the sound of slapping flesh and his moans were music to his ears.  
He had no memory of coming like this before, but the tingling increased, his thighs felt heavy, hot and his pelvis ached with need.  
The man stroked his twitching cock, running his fingers round the head, small circles on the sensitive underside.

It was too much, the orgasm consuming him before he could give any warning. The sensation wiped his mind, took away the festering ache in his head and replaced it with a warm buzz.  
Blissed out and dizzy from his high, still moaning at the man’s cock pressing on his prostate, he collapsed forward, cock still spilling feebly on the man’s t-shirt. He wanted to apologise, die of shame, but the man tipped him back, gripping his chin so he could see his humiliated face.  
There was smugness in the man’s smile, but Bucky found himself grinning back, laughing as he nuzzled into the man’s neck to escape his gloating.

Once wasn’t enough for the man, his eagerness to leave the city forgotten in a tsunami of want. The couch, the kitchen, the back of the front door. All wore there mark, splatters of bodily fluid and sweaty smears.

The man had an advantage, knew all the places to touch Bucky, to scratch his nails or paw at his flesh. He was at his mercy, dominated and controlled and he loved it, loved what the man could do to his body.

“What about this room?” Bucky teased, backing toward the room at the far end, “what’s behind here?”

The man didn’t answer, he opened the door anyway. A bedroom, all they had just done, and they hadn’t even got to the bedroom.

The man stalked up behind him, brushing hands on his waist as he pushed him inside.

“Yeah, I wanna do it here.” He said breathlessly, erection sticking in Bucky’s back.

Bucky went with a smile, a smile that grew into wonder when he saw the photograph on the bedside table.

A photograph of him, grinning at the camera. The man kept a photo of him right by the bed so he could wake up and see him, his kidnapped husband. There were more questions he needed to ask, but he wasn’t going to end their moment. He needed to give himself over, something inside him told him the man needed to reclaim his body and mind, the heart was another matter, Bucky knew it didn’t need reclaiming. He knew it beat for this man and this man alone.

“I lo-

He was shoved face first into the bed, hips gripped and yanked higher, getting his body into position. It was effortless for the man to slide into, skin already stretched and accepting, like that cock belonged in his body.  
The comforter on the bed smelled different, a different scent from the man pounding his ass. It was confusing; he braced his hands on the mattress and tried to push up from it, not wanting to breathe it in.  
The man growled, got a hand in his hair and held him to the material. The smell of sex and sweat and come eventually covered the foreign smell, made it retreat from the room and the bed.

“Mine.” The man was chanting, teeth snapping together each time he said it, “you’re mine.”

Bucky couldn’t argue, not when he was spread out at his mercy. His body responded like it belonged to this man, he trusted he wasn’t going to hurt him, take it too far or do something he didn’t like.

The man, he was fed up of thinking of him as ‘the man’. He needed a name for his face, to know what he used to call him when they were together, what name he had spoken when he said their vows.  
The man pushed in hard, stealing Bucky’s breath and thoughts. The man groaned as he emptied himself, twitching his hips as he spurted the last lot out.

“What’s your name?” Bucky whispered into the sheets a few moments later.

The small twitches stopped, the fullness disappeared when his cock slid out. Bucky had screwed the moment up, he hadn’t meant to, just finally wanted his name, to know who had been fucking him so amazingly.  
Hands gripped his shoulders, rolling him onto his back.

“’m sorry.” He blurted, feeling oddly vulnerable and silly for destroying the moment.

The man shushed him, putting his finger to Bucky’s plumped up lips.

“Steve, my name’s Steve.”

Steve, the man’s name was Steve. There was something he needed to say to him, something he knew when he woke up being cradled in the dark. Something that he never doubted even though he couldn’t remember a god-dam thing.

“I love you, Steve...”

Steve went very still, a shuddering breath escaped his lips, “you don’t have to say that, I’ll get you to love me eventually.”

Bucky gripped onto Steve’s face, “you don’t understand, I can’t remember anything, where I am, my name, yours, but I know it in my bones, in my beating heart. I love you. That’s all I can remember clearly, the only thing I know for certain. I loved you before, and I love you now.”

He was expecting Steve to be relieved, to smile down at him, but instead he looked horrified. His face drained of colour, mouth unhinged and hanging down in a choked gasp.

“I-I’ve said something wrong?” Bucky mumbled alarmed.

Steve’s eyes swelled, no resistance, he just let the tears drop, splash onto Bucky’s chest.

“You loved me....before?”

There was no specific memory, no memory at all. But the same way he knew he had almost drowned in a lake, the same way he knew he used to dance. He knew he loved this man. Loved Steve, his thumping heart and the giddiness that expanded in his chest confirmed those words.

“Yes...I’m certain, I’m yours and you’re mine, now and before.”

Steve started to tremble, full on shake that vibrated the mattress. His eyes had gone wide, glassy and shaky in their sockets. The longer he stared down unblinking the more worried Bucky got.

“Steve?”

Steve tugged him off the bed, holding onto him tightly.

“’m sorry, I’m so sorry Buck-I thought- you said-“

Bucky ran his hand up Steve’s back, over his flawless skin, “don’t be sorry, never have to be Steve, you saved me, always save me.”  
Steve was sobbing, sniffling and squeaking in despair.

“’m alright Steve, I know you got me, gonna take care of me.”

Steve nodded against Bucky’s face, “I will Buck, love you so much.”  
It took a few minutes to calm the quaking man down, Bucky ran his hands up his bare back, made soothing noises and rocked them together on the bed. 

“We-we got to go.” Steve said finally.

“Okay, I’ll just clean myself up first.”

He went to move off the bed but Steve grabbed him, “no, not here.”

“I’m covered in sex, I’ll just wipe it off in the bathroom-

“No! We gotta go now.”

Bucky chose not to argue with the crazed looking man, climbed back into his clothes and tried to ignore the itch of his skin. The man had saved him, gone through a hell Bucky couldn’t remember, the least he could do was put up with a few hours of being uncomfortable for the right reasons.

“Promise, I’ll clean you up when we get out of here....we’ve stayed too long.”

Back on the bike riding into the sunset, he didn’t have a clue where they were going, didn’t care as long as he stayed with Steve.

Steve who every half hour of the journey had to pull over, run his hands all over Bucky and kiss him breathless. He had no concept of personal space, and Bucky learned he also lacked that social skill.  
He couldn’t stop touching, gripping over Steve’s clothes wasn’t enough. He had to touch his warm skin, run his fingers over it, lean in close and breathe in the man’s scent, stuck so close to Steve’s back it wasn’t clear where one man stopped and the other began.

He didn’t need the past when he had Steve in front of him. Nothing else mattered. He would go with him to the ends of the earth, to the depths of hell because he loved the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading, commenting and giving kudos :) I'm glad I'm not the only one that loves an unhinged Steve Rogers...
> 
> I could try one shots for this ending, Steve trying to hide the fact he's a crazy-assed man and Bucky just being loved up, but we know from the comic books and films, his memory might start to fix itself eventually... 
> 
>    
> I'm done! yay....now to write something new....stucky of course....

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be fortnightly <3
> 
> Come say heeeeey
> 
> [tumblr](http://cookie-book-took.tumblr.com)


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